You're Given All, I'm Given None
by SecretFan17
Summary: A student AU for the GerIta and USUK pairing. Life is difficult for two outcast friends, Feliciano and Arthur. It's not easy that both are tormented daily by their peers. Ludwig the transfer student and Alfred the football star live perfect lives. But what happens when their exact opposites cross their paths? Will there be love or an all out brawl?
1. Chapter 1

Hello there~ this is a new fic I am working on although I should probably be working on the other one that is also on-going but oh well. This is a student AU for the Hetalia pairings GerIta and USUK. Their human names are given and for any characters who did not officially have human first names or full names, I used their fan-based names. Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or it's characters, they belong to their respectful owner. This starts off as everyone's morning for you to get a good idea on how this fic will go. Hope you enjoy ^.^

Characters: North Italy (Feliciano Vargas), South Italy (Lovino Vargas), England (Arthur Kirkland), Germany (Ludwig Beilschmidt), America (Alfred F. Jones), Spain (Antonio Fernandez), France (Francis), Prussia (Gilbert), and Netherlands (Tim Govert) I think Govert was an option as a first name for him but Govert is also a last name though it is English. Whatever, I wanted him to have a last name.

* * *

xGood Morning Little Onex

A certain auburn haired teen turned is head, rubbing his eyes tiredly as his hand reached out to his alarm clock that played his favorite song: Marukaite Chikyuu by Daisuke Namikawa. He could easily hear his transfer student guardians argue with their troubled son Tim Govert. The Govert family, while being gracious enough to house the Italian student as he studied overseas, was an angry and violent family. They never raised a hand to Feliciano but to their son... Well there was a reason why the blond son was out every night screwing anything with two legs and drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

The Italian teen sat up in his bed rubbing his normally slightly closed eyes again with his right wrist, stretching and yawning before deciding to crawl out of bed. He heard a few more shouts before the front door slammed hard and he could see the family making their way out to the lawn, each going their separate ways for the day. They always left him like that, expecting him to care for himself and get ready for the morning, being sure to make it to the early school bus. Oh well, so long as their anger wasn't directed towards him, he should be fine.

Feliciano went to his drawers, opening them up to gather his clothes for the day: a green and gray stripped shirt with a pen pocket and khaki shorts with billions of other pockets varying size and means of closing. Maybe he should change his wardrobe? The soft-hearted kid knew for a fact that that was one of the reasons he was picked on. Yes, Feliciano Vargas was, in fact, a tormented soul in which his punishments for living were acted out daily. Damn, how he hated America. Back in Italy this pecking order would never had occurred as his brother Lovino would have stepped in and taken charge. While the darker brunette was still a coward, he proved to be a ferocious beast when it came to protecting the younger twin.

How he missed his family back in his homeland, but he had to stay strong! This was a chance for new experiences however troublesome and hurtful they are. He couldn't tell his family what was really going on or else they would have had him deported back to Italy in a heart beat, showering him with love and protection. How ironic it was that such a weak kid would choose the harsh streets of America that tried to slam its door in his face everyday versus running back home to a loving environment. No. That is what the old Feliciano did; the new Feliciano faced his tormentors with slightly... shaking legs and... yelping cries... But he faced them none the less!

Slipping his tiny frame into his rather baggy clothes he made his way to the bathroom that he shared with Mathias. The other teen lined the counters with various piercings that the Italian questioned whether or not they belonged to the Dutch kid. The counters also contained some gels: empty, crushed, as the blond tried so desperately to get the last drop out from the bottle, or full it didn't matter, several types of combs that the brunette was forbidden to use, and, if he dared to say it, new and used condoms that did not just littler the counter but also around the always full bathroom trashcan. That man was a dirty whore and he knew it.

Feliciano flinched as he grabbed his designated brush and the slight top of his hand touched one of those wretched pieces of plastic. Dear lord let him make it through the morning without catching herpes or worse: AIDS. Combing his messing hair he fixed it right, leaving that side curl he had as he knew it would be futile to get rid of it.

He looked at himself fully now, inwardly hissing at the reflection shown. He wasn't at all pleased with his appearance. Those closed eyes, that ugly shade of brown that defined his hair, those hormone caused pimples that maimed his once soft facial flesh and most likely would show up with pits in his face once they clear up considering he scratched at the scabs daily, and his weak body that could probably be blown away with the wind. If he was someone else and saw him walking through the school hallways, he would probably be beating himself to a pulp everyday too.

He let out an exasperated sigh and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen; he might be able to make a decent breakfast before going out to the bus. In truth, the Italian student had two passions in life. One, he was an extreme otaku, completely enthralled with Japanese art and literature (his favorite being anime) that it was another cause for him to be mutilated the way he was, but he would never give up on his fantasy world. Secondly, he aspired to be an Italian chef. He learned a lot from his parents in Italy, but it was his spending of every summer at his uncle's restaurant that truly allowed him to spread his wings. He didn't like to brag but he had to admit that he was a pretty decent chef. His favorite dish of all would be his fettuccine Alfredo, the secret spice being nutmeg and a lot of garlic. He had high hopes that his uncle, having no kids of his own, would pass down his restaurant to him and he would live out his life doing the thing he loves the most: having people discover the true flavor of Italy!

The boy padded over to the fridge which he continually stocked. While the school system paid his current guardians with enough money to clothe and feed him, his parents back home still sent him plenty so he could continue to cook. He looked over at the clock on the stove: one hour before he had to leave. He always gave himself plenty of time to make a hearty meal before school, sometimes bringing left overs for lunch. Unlike Mathias, Feliciano was a very good student and wouldn't do anything to hinder his education. The only reason Mathias left so early in the morning was because he wanted enough time himself to get in a quick bang before having to be some-what abstinent throughout the school day.

Feliciano looked at the full fridge, biting his cheek debating what he should cook. He eventually shrugged, pulling out butter, cream cheese, Italian sausage, Swiss cheese, chives, eggs, and half-and-half cream, laying out all of the ingredients on the counter. He walked over to his beloved spice cabinet, taking out the flour, salt, and Cayenne pepper. This dish would take close to forty minutes to make but that was the reason why he gave himself so much time in the morning. He quickly went to work, chopping and mashing the ingredients before shoving it all in the oven.

During the time he was waiting to the completion of his breakfast, he cleaned the kitchen quite enthusiastically, this was, after all, his favorite breakfast dish. The timer rang and he went to check if it was done. Sure enough he pulled out the pan to reveal his gorgeous making of Petite Sausage Quiches. He sat them on a rack to cool, tapping his fingers anxiously on the counter until he thought that they were cool enough. By the time he thought they were ready he picked one up and popped it into his mouth, grimacing as the heat of the food slightly blistered his tongue. Oh well, it was worth it. He smiled as he ate nearly all of it, packing the rest as he thought he should give his only friend at the school some breakfast as well.

He packed his bag with his favorite manga and the Quiches, zipping up his bag and running out the door. Only when he was done enjoying his food in bliss did he realize that there was a chance for him to be late to the bus. Sure enough when he reached the stop he noticed the mammoth yellow vehicle loading up the last of the kids. He raced onto the platform lucky to not have the cruel bus driver leave him behind in the dust. As much as Feliciano wanted to hide in the front and disappear the bus driver forced farther back because the other students would throw things at him during the drive and the driver had deemed it to be too 'distracting'.

The auburn teen clutched his navy blue backpack as he scuttled his way down the aisle to the middle of the bus. The driver grew irritated at his slowness and started driving before the poor teen had a chance to sit down. He lurched forward and an unknown teen stuck his foot out tripping the Italian. Feliciano fell to the ground, the torment had already begun.

"Watch where you're going Vargas, wouldn't want to hurt yourself now, would we?" Some cocky kid flashed him a smile and the rest just laughed, throwing wads of paper at him to continue the assault.

"If only you didn't do it on purpose." the boy muttered as he got up, dusting himself off and sitting in his seat. His peers continued the obnoxious tormenting, boys a girls alike. He simply rested his chin on his palm staring out the window as the world went by, being too much used the the utter nonsense and chaos that suffocated his very being. He sighed, everyday... every god damn day. When will it end? He could only pray that the bus ride would be short and that he could hide somewhere in the school quick enough to not be detected. "Fly under the radar"... that was what is only friend had told him.

Feliciano lifted his head so fast that it should have snapped when the bus has stopped, opening the doors to unload the tired teens. He bolted and squeezed passed the students before the front seaters could stand, not wanting to be held up in foot traffic by his designated bullies. With his backpack clutched to his chest, he made his way through the hallways dodging all of the students who still threw names his way. Keeping his eyes closed he tried to avoid contact but somehow manage to hit shoulders with a rather tall peer, spinning him till he faced the other. Oh crap, it was one of members of the group that hurt him the most!

"Hey watch where you're going Vargas! You nearly hit the new guy!" Antonio Fernandez stared down on the smaller teen emitting a warning aura, his brown eyebrows furrowed and his broad shoulders stood out and his arms were crossed over his chest.

Feliciano nodded keeping his head down, avoiding either glares from the two larger teens before him, not even taking a glance to the 'new guy'. "Y-yes Antonio is what my bad, I'm sorry. I couldn't see where I was going."

"You probably couldn't see because your eyes are always closed idiot. Just don't let it happen again and I won't tell the others." The auburn teen simply nodded. Out of the whole group that tormented him, Antonio was probably the nicest. Though he claimed that it was because of the way Feliciano looked that everyone wanted to beat him, he would only do simple taps on the head, never leaving a bruise or scar.

With that confirmation Feliciano ran off to the Out of Order bathroom just a few meters away from the cafeteria to meet up with his only friend: Arthur Kirkland.

* * *

xThe Sun Doesn't Shinex

The sun seeped through white curtains onto blond eyelashes, causing the owner to squint and furrow his equally blond and rather thick eyebrows. He grunted and turned over, hearing in return the clang of empty beer cans and bottles. Now this particular teenage blond was not a heavy drinker as he was, as they say in America, a light weight, so this mess of containers of the yellow alcoholic beverages was just a symptom of neglectful accumulation of trash. Trash. Just as the teen himself was called every day of his measly existence.

Oh well. The Brit teen sat up in his bed, his covers showing off a very proud British flag, the only thing in his room that was not black. He stretched, exposing the view of the fish net shirt that still covered his torso and arms he turned his head to see his clock, careless to think that relying on the sun to wake him up was the proper alarm clock, noticing that if he hurried he would be able to make it to his usual meet up with his friend and not disappoint the softer one of the two. Friends. Arthur only had one and had not bothered to find any others. Oh well.

He finally talked himself into getting out of bed and facing the gruesome day, again revealing dark clothes: his fishnet shirt and black boxers. He went to his closet pulling out some razor cut skinny jeans with his favorite chains and a button up white shirt and a black and purple tie. He rolled up the sleeves of the shirt to his elbows, keeping the collar disheveled and the first two buttons undone, his neck tie hanging loosely to complete the outfit. He was one of few dark creatures of the school but even his fellow brethren avoided him like the plague. He then slipped on some black books that required the owner to strap them up like belt buckles.

He looked in the mirror deciding that his morning mop was good enough and simply combed his fingers through. He also decided that sipping simple mouth wash and spitting it out his second story window was acceptable as well. He leaned over his desk tossing his school work into his black backpack and lugging it onto one shoulder he made his way down stairs. Perhaps his mother would still be asleep long enough so that he could make some toast. No such luck.

"Well look who's dressed like a faggot once again." A rather large blond woman stood hunched over the kitchen counter with a cup of Joe clasped in both hands as if it were her life line, and judging by Arthur it probably was at this point as the woman flinched at the morning light, dark bags hung from her green eyes as she rubbed circles with two fingers on her temple trying desperately to drive the infernal headache away. She sneered showing off her grotesque rotting teeth, her lips still stained by last night's lipstick. By how this woman looked Arthur often wondered which of his features he had gotten from his dad who currently resided in a heavily guarded prison on death row for murder.

He looked at the woman with disgust and decided it would be better not to say anything and instead forget about the toast. He made his way outside hearing a faint noise of his horrid mother screaming, " I wasn't done talking to you!" to his receding back.

Arthur's life, _his_ life was one where the sun was constantly setting and never rising. His mother was an abusive alcoholic who hit her only son regularly and then left him in pain and misery to go to a bar till dawn. As for his father, he hardly knew him, all Arthur could remember of the man was that he loved him dearly and it was because of that love that the man was now on death row. A comrade in his gang had spoken ill of the other's four year old son right after they had moved to America from England, and well, that didn't go over well with Mr. Kirkland, leading to an all out brawl and killing the man who delivered the snide comment.

He didn't remember what his father looked like and his mother certainly didn't hang up any photos of him, and though he could of searched for his father's mug shot online, he decided against it. Arthur also remembered his father telling him to never lay a finger on a woman no matter what, so being the only thing he remembered his father saying he kept it to heart and would never once strike his mother back even though he had thought about it on many occasions.

Arthur walked through a small patch of forest to get to school, he lived so close it was ridiculous and it pissed him off to no end. Reaching the front of the school he inwardly shuddered knowing that high school was a battlefield equal to the casualties he received at home. Passing by trying to go unnoticed he glance at a well known blond and made a throaty noise of disgust. Who he saw was the quarterback of the football team, mister smiles, lady killer, mister privileged, arrogant little shit who went by the name of Alfred Jones. Even his name sounded famous as everyone depicted him as the hero of the school. A man like Alfred was Arthur's worst enemy. He had it all while Arthur had nothing. Life is too cruel.

Unlike Alfred, Arthur had to bury himself in his studies if he wanted to go far and it was his stressful home life that led to a few drunken nights after his studies. He could easily steal beers from his mom's stash since she was always completely clueless. Looking away the Brit trudged off into school looking for a certain Out of Order bathroom to hide in where he usually met his only friend.

On his way there he caught a glimpse of a new student that was tall and muscular causing the other teen to noticeably flinch out of trained instincts. He was blond and blue eyed which made the Brit wonder if he was German. Next to him stood the almost equally tall, but not as equally built, Antonio walking beside him, the brunette smiling as they passed by, giving Arthur a good slapped on the back of the head. He winced in response but accepted it as it is, he deserved it after all since he was a rat and a nuisance to begin with.

He noticed that he was there before the Italian transfer student but merely shrugged at this thought. Better to be early than late. He went to the farthest wall and sat escaping a sigh of relief that the knock behind his head was the worse so far. Feliciano, the Italian transfer student, was his only friend in truth although they are complete opposites. Arthur, being a British punk whose bark was worse than his bite and Feliciano, being a meek and quiet otaku Italian who loved to cook. And boy was he good at cooking, Arthur having tried many of his dishes for breakfast as most of the time he didn't eat due to his dragon mother nesting in the kitchen when needed most.

Their story of becoming friends wasn't all that complicated as it had begun in Freshmen year as of now they were Juniors. They both shared the same hour for PE and still do to this day by some miracle. It was their last class of the day and some assholes decided to pick on both of them as they got dressed to go home. Both weak teens were beaten to the point that they could hardly see out of one or both eyes and were so badly battered and bruised as they were stuffed into a crowded bathroom stall in the locker room that they had no other choice but to lick each others' wounds sort to speak...

*"Ve~ I hate America. I want to go home." the Italian cried.

"Yeah well at least you have a bloody home you like enough to go back to." the blond retorted back.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you mad. Ve~ Are you going to hate me now like the rest do?" he questioned feeling upset that he couldn't at least make one friend who could understand him.

Hearing the desperate tone in the foreign student's voice, the Brit's heart clenched in his chest, "No, I don't hate you. Contrary to that, I think you're an alright guy."

"Ve~ Really?! Do you mean it?" he replied excitedly, rubbing his cheek on the other's, this not being so difficult as they were already pressed up against each other.

"Yes, I mean it." he muttered back sounding somewhat annoyed.

"Yay! My first friend, maybe this butt kicking wasn't so bad after all. My name is Feliciano Vargas and you are?"

The blond doubted that them being beaten to a pulp was anything remotely good but nonetheless he said back, "Arthur Kirkland"*

At the end of this memory Arthur looked up to see said brunette walk into the bathroom slightly shaking, the blond thinking that he must of had an even rougher morning than himself. The Italian looked up and smiled. Honestly, Arthur thought he was such a sweet guy that he couldn't possibly understand what provoked the others to pick on him so much, was it because he was so weak and kind-hearted?

"Ve~ Good morning Arthur! Have you had breakfast yet?" he pulled out a container to which the Brit's mouth watered and he shook his head hurriedly in hopes to getting the food sooner. The auburn haired teen only snickered and sat down next to his hungry friend handing him the left over breakfast.

"What is it this time?" He questioned.

"Petite Sausage Quiches." he answered still smiling.

"Really? This is one of your best! Thanks man!" he said gratefully. "Man I can't wait to visit you in Italy once you have your own shop and everything. You're going to go far I can tell." after claiming this compliment the punk then began to stuff his face with the savory food. _How delectable!_ he thought as he munched away. Though the day didn't start off as bad as others, they still had another seven hours to go.

* * *

xWake Up to a New Landx

A certain overgrown Aryan race teen woke up to the soft knocking of his transfer student guardian, "Ludwig? Do you still have jet-leg? Today is your first day of American school. You don't want to be late so please get ready quickly so you and Antonio can eat and get to school." the petite woman called out softly.

He sat up in his bed, turning his legs out from under the covers, he wore a black tank top and blue boxers, a German black cross hung from his thick neck. He could smell the cooking of sausage from his homeland. It was a very gentle and sweet Spanish household he came to stay in and they were being very considerate of the his cultural background. Overall he was excited to start studying in America.

Ludwig Beilschmidt looked around his new room in which he would be staying in for the next two years even though he was starting in the middle of the first semester of Junior year. It was well clean and orderly just like his room back in Germany. He had a light blue comforter with white sheets, navy blue curtains and a black desk and black drawers. It was nice.

To say he was homesick would have been the truth because while his parents were strict, specifically on his education and sports, they still cared and loved him which was a life the teen just couldn't complain about. He was blessed to have high morals and a strong sense for stepping up for the underdog all while tearing down strong enemies from their roots. His older brother Gilbert might not have helped in this development in a positive way, but he set an example for Ludwig not to follow.

He was now taking these teachings in life to America where he earned the chance to study since he had become so fluent in English and was enthralled with the American lifestyle. Naturally, he was elated to find out that he was chosen to study abroad though he was chosen for the same reason as any other foreign student from across the world. The school he was going to was well known for its diverse student population, it was known as the Melting Pot school just as the country was known for.

The young German pulled himself out of bed deciding to take on the day in the new and exotic land so foreign to his own. So far he had kept what little clothes he had in his drawers and he made a mental note to ask if he could shop for more as he pulled out a green close-to-denim-fabric jacket leaving all the buttons undone and some casual blue jeans. The struggles of moving over seas.

He straightened his *iron cross and went to the adjoining bathroom that connected his and Antonio's rooms together, brushing his teeth and gelling back his hair like the military academy he attended during middle school had taught him. Grabbing his backpack, which was actually his dad's first military bag, he walked into the kitchen of the Spaniard's household.

Mrs. Fernandez smiled warmly at the house guest at she put wurst on a plate and laid them before the famished boys. Antonio nodded as a good morning, grabbing his own bag and stuffing his face with the food.

"Antonio! At least let your guest have a few before devouring them all!" the mom scolded.

"It's okay Mrs. Fernandez, thank you very much for this meal." He slightly bowed to the woman before taking his share of the meat. He caught a glimpse of her blushing at his politeness.

"Of course, you're welcome." she returned.

"Come dude, time to go to school so we have enough time to give you a proper tour," the brunette teen tapped the other's shoulder with the back of his hand and he made his way to the front door waving behind him to his mom.

Ludwig nodded at the woman and followed after the energetic teen to his red Ford f250. In his mind he thought that no teenager deserved a car that expensive and if they were to have a car they should have earned it through responsibility and a job.

Hopping into the passenger side, he buckled up and sighed trying to ease his nerves. He had no idea what American schools were like and wondered how his first day would go. He summed up that as long as he had Antonio to show him the ropes, everything would be fine. They reached the school parking lot and Ludwig could already see how unorganized the students were, but then again, it didn't seem too different from his homeland. The two new friends walked to the front of the school, instantly being noticed by a boy with blue eyes and dirty blond hair and the largest most carefree smile the German had ever seen.

"Antonio my man! What's up?" He loudly jeered and pat his friend's back while shaking hands respectfully with Ludwig, "Is this the new dude? Welcome!" he greeted warmly.

"Same as usual Alfred. Alfred this is Ludwig, Ludwig, this is Alfred," he gestured with his hand. "He's also our new fullback for the football team."

"Huh? Really? Awesome man, loved to have you on the team, you're built like a brick wall! Please be sure to protect me on the feild. I'm sure Antonio has already told you that he's our wide receiver by now. Can't wait to see what you can do!" Alfred said genuinely excited and this made Ludwig smile.

"Alright dude, see you in Forensics," they high fived, "I have to get this guy's schedule and show him around. Later!" Antonio led Ludwig to the front office, both smiling and waving at the quarterback who then was smothered by the group he previously ditched.

At the front office the two roommates got the German's schedule, the Spaniard also asking for a map of the school in case they got lost. Because of the transfer arrangement they shared a lot of classes so it shouldn't be a problem. Antonio showed him all the hallway classes before showing him the gymnasium where they shared sixth hour PE and then the lockers for the class and the cut off section set aside for the sport teams.

All that was left was to show the chaotic but extremely large cafeteria. It seemed to Ludwig that the school was designed in a very relaxed manner. Back home his school would of reminded the Americans of a prison though the kids behaved the same way. They were walking three hallways away from the cafeteria when a short mess of blond hair was walking past them, his head down as if to avoid eye contact. To Ludwig the kid seemed very dark and alone. A flag went up that told him the kid had a wall surrounding him with signs that said 'No Trespassing' and 'Beware of Dog'.

Antonio had a strange smile on his face, the German noticed, as he rose his hand and smacked the kid on the head. Ludwig was about to object thinking that it was out of spite but the smile on Antonio's face stopped him. He didn't know whether or not it was meant in a friendly way. American kids were weird.

They stopped at what was supposed Ludwig's locker for the rest of the year, giving the teen an opportunity to drop off all of his heavy books, but to the German the bag was extremely light. Now emptying it, it felt as light as a feather.

They turned to a hallway that wasn't far from the cafeteria. Honestly, all of the hallways in the 600 building led to the massive lunch room. This particular hallway though didn't have any classrooms but was instead covered on each wall with rows of lockers, only an Out of Order male bathroom stopped the pattern.

They passed the bathroom continuing the path they were on. God, it was a long hallway. Just then an auburn teen turned a corner, his head down the same way the blond they previously ran into did except this kid was running with near tears in his closed eyes and a book bag clutched to his chest. Fast. The teen was running faster than Ludwig had ever seen such a scrawny and short kid run before. He had to admit. He was impressed.

The kid's trajectory faltered causing him to slam into Antonio's shoulders and spinning off behind until he stopped, facing the backs of the two much stronger and taller teens. The kid shook where he stood and this alarmed Ludwig. _Is this kid scared?_

The brunette's eyes finally opened for a split second, filled with fear. Those eyes struck something in Ludwig and his heart jumped in his throat. The teen's eyes were large light brown orbs that were ingenuous and completely left the German flustered. His cheeks were lightly tinted with pink though no one would notice but him as he felt his face heat up from the excessive blood flow.

"Hey watch where you're going Vargas! You nearly hit the new guy!" Antonio said angrily, causing Ludwig's blood to get warmer as he internally questioned if he had to step in and stand up for the kid. Antonio himself looked like he was about to blow a gasket causing the blond to question why that was.

"Y-yes Antonio is what my bad, I'm sorry. I couldn't see where I was going." stuttered the small teen the German could clearly tell was Italian.

"You probably couldn't see because your eyes are always closed idiot. Just don't let it happen again and I won't tell the others." _Others? What did he mean by that? Was Antonio bullying this kid? _The German kept his jaw clenched not wanting to be on bad terms with the teen he lived with.

The boy Ludwig could only name as Vargas nodded and ran towards his previous destination. "Don't worry over that kid Ludwig. He's just a shy guy who I think deserves a break. But watcha gonna do?" They continued their path to the cafeteria, the blond teen summing up that America was going to be very very different. _Vargas..._

* * *

xA Morning Fit for Herosx

Cerulean eyes opened to a radio alarm clock. He blinked a few times trying to see clearly before he realized that he needed his glasses glasses to see properly. He got up sliding the spectacles onto his face. His naked, muscular chest heaved as the blond teen let a yawn escape him. He had only gotten approximately three hours of sleep that night due to him writing more football plays to practice before the football season officially started. He also tried to figure out a way to squeeze in his new fullback that was starting today and had moved in from Germany. He had heard that he was good, but he could only hope that that rumor was true.

Alfred F. Jones rubbed his face as he got out of bed, not bothering to tidy it up in the slightest. Standing up he revealed an American flag on his boxers. This was probably due to the fact that he loved his country. While all of the school kids called him a hero he couldn't help but think the opposite. Sure if it wasn't for him, the school's football team would still probably reek.

They had talent, they just didn't have a good enough leader to use that talent the right way. Though in their eyes he was the hero he felt like it was all a lie. He wanted to be a real hero. He wanted to do something good that would save lives. That's why he had planned to join the air force. He had the talent for it and he was already being scouted by many different positions. The blond would have chosen to become a private investigator if it wasn't for the fact that he doubted his intelligence.

He stretched once more as he grabbed a white t-shirt, some torn blue jeans, and his dad's old aviary leather jacket. His father having given it to him when he was eight years old. His dad had had an accident, causing him to eject himself from his fighter jet and landed into a ravine hard. His father had broken both his legs to the point that they were unable to keep him, making the man a double amputee. While he can walk on his aesthetic legs, he can no longer service the Air Force and now worked at the base, directing the pilots and teaching the newbies the basics.

Overall, his family bounced back pretty well after the accident and carried on smiling. Once dressed the blond teen headed to the bathroom to brush his teen and fix his hair. Alfred hated his hair, the cow-lick style that sat on the top of his head frustrated him to no end and he wished it would just go away. He left it as it was and headed to the kitchen.

There at the counter waited his breakfast and his younger brother who was eating his own. "Good morning Matthew, ready for the honors Biology test you have today?" He asked the boy who nodded meekly. Alfred then decided it was time for him to plaster on his well known smile for the day. He wore that smile all the time whether or not he was actually happy.

Matthew didn't really have a presence, he was always such a quiet boy. Even when he was a newborn his parents had kept his little brother in their room for the longest time because they could hardly hear him cry. Alfred new it was going to be difficult for Matthew to start a new year at an even larger school, that's why he was determined to help his brother whenever it was needed.

He glanced back at the counter to see his cappuccino and egg&sausage sandwich that came from the nearest fast food joint. His mother was a busy woman with her job as a child mediator and therapist. She had a lot of cases as of late from the nearest large city with CPS dropping off kids at her workplace to get to the bottom of the household abuse that was becoming more and more common. It was this reason that she would drop by a fast food joint, pick up breakfast, and leave it for her kids before she left. His father would leave at four in the morning so he could make it to the base so far out on time.

It was rare for the family to have enough time between work and Alfred's football practice to share dinner so Alfred would often pick up Matthew from his school after practice and go eat out. He ate like a pig but it didn't matter since he was a growing boy and he was active. It would be easier to make sure Matthew was safe now that the younger brother waits in the library or at the bleachers as the oldest goes through football practice.

Both finishing their meals and grabbing their drinks they walked out the door locking it up, they headed to school. They walked to school although it was a little far it wasn't far enough to take the school bus. Alfred also owned the oldest version of the Toyota Tacoma in a dark blue which he had earned through being a waiter during the summer and babysitting his parent's friends' kids. Perhaps it would be faster to go to school driving but he figured that less driving and more walking would save gas money and would contribute a little to saving the environment.

The road the two brothers took to walking was a very large but rarely busy road which was surrounded by thick forest on either side. They walked in complete silence, both too tired to strike up a conversation but Alfred was also saving his energy for when he had to be all smiles and energy around his so-called 'friends'. It was a lot of work so it was only with his little brother that he could completely relax.

They reached the large high school, Matthew running straight in the direction of the library, not wanting to be caught in the crowd that would soon surround his older brother. Sure enough one of his pals, Francis, caught sight of him and the rest followed. Alfred's smile was bright and alluring, but to the trained eye one could see that it was entirely fake. Over the years he had managed to train himself how to talk to others while on autopilot, he rarely paid any attention to what others said, mostly when he was in a large group that was.

He caught a glimpse of his other friend Antonio walking towards him with a taller blond teen who would scare Alfred if he was mad. He took this opportunity to escape the crowd even for a little bit, "Hold up a sec guys I need to go meet the new guy." he could hear a few girls whine in protest.

"Antonio my man! What's up?" Alfred ran towards them happily, thankful for the momentary break "Is this the new dude? Welcome!"

"Same as usual Alfred. Alfred this is Ludwig, Ludwig, this is Alfred,"Antonio introduced the two of them. "He's also our new fullback for the football team."

"Huh? Really? Awesome man, loved to have you on the team, you're built like a brick wall! Please be sure to protect me on the field. I'm sure Antonio has already told you that he's our wide receiver by now. Can't wait to see what you can do!" And that statement was true, he had been anxiously waiting all night for him to see what this German kid was capable of, and currently his fullback was failing at protecting him, it didn't help that that teammate hated Arthur's guts with a fiery passion

"Alright dude, see you in Forensics," he accepted the offered high-five from Antonio. "I have to get this guy's schedule and show him around. Later!" they left the quarterback behind slightly disappointed because as soon as they left the crowd surrounded him yet again. He softly sighed under his breath. The same old thing everyday was getting tired. That was the same for the girls he was always with, this thought coming to him as one girl was trying to rub on him. *It's too early for this nonsense.* He wanted nothing more that to find *the one*, someone who drive him mad with desire. Someone who wasn't some sleazy ho.

At this moment he felt a threatening aura directed towards him, it happened every morning and he had no idea who it was and why they were emitting that feeling of hatred towards him. Alfred knew it was directed towards him as no one else around him felt uneasy like he did every morning. _Why?..._

* * *

A/N: Fun fact for fans who didn't already know: Germany's cross is actually the iron cross which is a German military medal and, while it was apart of Germany for many centuries, was reinstated as an award during World War II. Anyways, I think this fic was really long, any thoughts? I wanted to include as much information as possible to jump start this story. I hope you all enjoyed it, please please review. It would be very helpful for me as I improve my writing. Thank you for reading! ^.^


	2. Chapter 2 Stand Together I

Hey everyone! I am extremely surprised that this story has followers, thank you! I'll try my best to improve on my writing. So I had a personal deadline for updating once a week but seeing as I am working on a collab novel right now I am not so sure how this'll pan out. *whisper* (plus i'm trying to get my kouhai to notice me). I have a whole week to myself coming up though so it should be easier.

So this is part one of two. It all seemed really long together so I split it up. Also there is headcannon don't shoot me if you don't like the names. Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters they belong to their respectful owners.

Characters: Arthur Kirkland (UK), Feliciano Vargas (Italy), Tim Govert (Netherlands), Alfred Jones (America), Matthew Jones (Canada), Ludwig Beilschmidt (Germany), Antonio Fernandez (Spain), Francis Bonnefoy (France), Simon Densen (Denmark), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), Ivan Broginski (Russia), Im Yong Soo (South Korea). For some of the bullies I just picked them more for looks than personality though most were chosen based on how they behaved.

Please enjoy and please review! ^.^ Warning: Strong language.

* * *

Ch. 2 Stand Together

Part I

A pink tongue twirled around dirty lips, cleaning them of a delicious meal. The blond punk teen stared at his nerd of an Italian friend thanking him for the breakfast. "Man you can cook! I can't tell you that enough!" he gleamed in gratification.

"Ve~ glad you liked it Arthur!" Feliciano replied happily as if he had perked brown ears sitting atop of his head and a wagging tail behind. The Italian always loved having his works of art complimented. Speaking of works of art...

"Hey dude, it's Wednesday, isn't the Art Club today?" the blond Brit asked, quirking an eyebrow waiting for the answer. He rarely attended so he always relied on Feliciano to tell him the plan.

"Huh? Oh yes~! Are you planning on coming today?" the brunette asked enthusiastically. He always loved having his friend over at the Art Club. Normally, when he was there alone, all of the other kids would avoid him like he was some kind of freak, and to their eyes he probably was. He was known for sitting in the lonely corner by the window of the second floor in the art room, looking out to the parking lot and the tennis court that laid right next to it. He would spend that whole hour painting and painting, creating works of art that he never showed to anyone, not even the art teacher/Art Club supervisor, Mr. Zinger.

"Yeah I think I will." he answered as he began to give himself a reason to go, "The way my mom was acting this morning hinted that she would try to stay home to torment me a little before going out to the bar again. I don't want to get into that mess." the green eyed boy said, leaning back he put his forearms behind his head and rested his body against the bathroom wall. Feliciano simply nodded to this bit of information. He knew well of Arthur's home life, seeing plenty of black eyes, bruises, and once a nasty broken nose, and that was all he could see from what couldn't be hidden under clothing. Currently the British boy was suffering but healing from a nasty shiner on his face, but due to all of his other beatings taken action at school, most wouldn't realize it was because of what occurred to him behind the closed doors of a normally empty home. The brunette had visited on a few occasions but did not make it a habit. The house was scary as it was without the horrendous woman, that could hardly be called a mother, running a muck. He had even witnessed his blond friend get punched _hard_ and be left for over a bar.

He hated that house.

Arthur side glanced his friend with alert eyes, now that he had food in his stomach and given enough time to properly wake up, he was showing his true form. When awake, Arthur was extremely observant and always on high alert. While Feliciano had the ability to break free and run at a speed unbelievable to any man from his tormentors, Arthur was able to detect them coming from a mile away, on most days, and was also able to tell whether or not they should worry.

Feliciano blinked out of his momentary stupor and looked back at Arthur with his heartwarming smile, "Ve~ glad you're going to come Arthur!" he continued to smile at his friend.

The blond nodded back, "Hey do you want to come over to my place so you don't have to wait for Tim to pick you up from school?" The Brit knew that while Tim was in the same grade as they were, he didn't part take in education as much as he should have. Most days he would skip and only come in for his favorite classes. Now Arthur wasn't necessarily against Tim, he just didn't like his screwing around and leaving Feliciano to defend himself when his job as a transfer student guardian was to protect him. The only reason why Tim was Feliciano's guardian was because the counselors thought it would do him good to have responsibility. Boy were they wrong. On a personal level, the Dutch boy never brought harm the either one of them so he wasn't on Arthur's kill list or anything. When he wasn't a drunk or being a complete manwhore, he was just like them, misunderstood and looking for his own way to feel needed or desired.

The Italian teen rose his crossed legs to cover his chest as he fumbled with his words not wanting to offend his only friend. "Well... That depends Arthur... Will your mom be there?" he looked down quickly hoping that he did not hurt the blond's feelings.

The punk teen looked at his friend sadly. He hated how his only friend was too scared to visit his home. Now he wasn't mad at Feliciano at all, he was mad that Feliciano was scared, mad that it was his mother who had scared his only friend away for being her bloody wretched self. Infuriated even.

Arthur's eyes saddened but answered him with the truth: "She might be there, but considering we would get there close to four she most likely would be gone by then." The blond could then see as Feliciano debated what he was going to decide.

The brunette finally looked up and smiled warmly. "Ve~ then I will go with you Arthur!" Emerald eyes glimmered back as he realized he would not have to walk home alone this time around.

The Brit was about to speak before he was interrupted by the morning bell. He cursed under his breath and the two stood up, Arthur handing the Italian his Tupperware and thanking him again for his breakfast. They walked out of the bathroom waving at each other.

"See ya at lunch!" Arthur yelled to the brunette going the opposite direction for the day.

"Ve~ see you Arthur!" he replied back happily.

The punk Brit smiled as he walked off trying to ignore what lied ahead for him the rest of the day. Though Feliciano and him had shared many classes the last two years, their Junior year was one that was determined to tear them apart, single them out, and put a magnifying glass over them or worse a 'you are here' red dot that made it easy for the bullies to locate them. Their schedule showed little time for them to meet up: Arthur and Feliciano would meet in the bathroom in the morning, meet up at their lockers (easily bribed to be put together) between classes, meet up at the bathroom for lunch, and finally they shared fifth hour gym together. Unless Arthur decided to go to Art Club, they had no other means to meet up as Feliciano took the bus home and Arthur walked.

Arthur was almost to his first class, which was psychology, with no mishaps besides a few snarly comments thrown his way by his peers. He thought that today might not be so bad, until of course it happened. He could see the classroom door but what he couldn't see was the foot that slid from the wall out into the hallway. Luckily Arthur caught himself before falling, but that bit of torment wasn't the end, a large hand that didn't belong to the same body as the foot that tripped him grabbed the back of his head lurching his body forward to force him to hit the ground.

He heard all too familiar laughs, not by the others who watched because they were too blended to pick them out, but the ones above him were his worst nightmares. He turned around sitting up and looking his tormentors dead in the eye.

"Well well Kirkland. You might want to watch where you are going~! You really are such a careless boy~!" long, blond, and curly hair was flipped in an oh so feminine fashion that Arthur had to subdue his laughter to a sarcastic chuckle that neither teen above him could hear. This piece of work went by the name of one Francis Bonnefoy, and while he surely wasn't the most built of his tormentors, he was the leader of the pack. He was the captain of the soccer team or shall he say European football. He was a transfer student like most but he had been in America since middle school, plenty of time for him to gather his posse and a few victims, the emerald eyed teen being one of them.

"Ha ha! Almost broke your face on that floor there you mangy Brit!" and that, that was Simon Densen. While being somewhat on the short side he still had quite a build, enough to be one of Arthur's most physical of bullies. The Danish kid had spiked up blond hair and a lot of energy used for his schemes. A small metal ax hung from a necklace chain.

Arthur squinted his eyes, getting up and dusting off. "Glad to see that you two are finding time to make out in the hallways before class. Careful now, the teachers might catch you and suspend you both, then what would you do?" He retorted back, Simon growled balling his fists and was about to lung for the Brit when Francis rested a hand on the fuming teen's shoulder, pointing out that a teacher was coming out of their classroom to open the door for a few students.

"Saved for now eyebrows," the French boy gave him a glare. "But we will find your hideout at lunch and when we do you will be rewarded with the answer to the statement you just made." Though to most that threat would seem empty, Arthur visibly paled. Francis and Simon were tough to handle as it was, but at lunch The Group was all together, meaning that there would be blood. If they ever figured out where Feliciano and him were hiding they would never have peace. Feliciano normally didn't get hurt quite as bad as Arthur but that was because he didn't have the same mouth as the Brit. He was known for talking back and not knowing when to shut up for his own good. Defiant and strong he spoke on his and Feliciano's behalf.

A smirk lied on the blond's face as he casually walked away from the two brutes and into his conveniently opened classroom to which the teacher smiled a greeted him. Normally Arthur rolled his eyes and grumbled about her stupidity but this morning he gave his million dollar smile and said "Good morning Miss W!" after all, she did save him from a beating. Now she wasn't a bad teacher per se, just really flamboyant and overly involved with her students' lives. She was the psychology teacher and her room was colorful and full of random objects. It was like a rainbow puked in that classroom. During the first week of school they went to the lecture hall and formed a circle on the stage passing down a feather and lantern (since it was dark), telling everyone an answer or two on some worksheet she gave them. Arthur answered none of them but many of the 'tortured souls' cried as they described how horrible (perfect) their lives were. There were tissues. Arthur hated those complaints. They weren't ever beaten, they weren't ever bullied, and they never once went hungry in a cold house with no electricity or running water.

The final bell rang as Arthur took his seat at the back of the class resting his head on his palm.

* * *

As Feliciano walked down the hallway to Algebra 3-4 he still had his happy grin sprawled across his face. He hated being alone at Art Club, really Mr. Zinger was the only one who bothered to talk to him, and quite frankly, he wished others would be more willing too. He was thankful that Arthur was going this time. Most thought that he was submissive and bizarre. It might be true what they say, that he always looked like he was in his own little world daydreaming about God knows what. Yes, he was an obsessive fanboy, and yes most of what he was painting had to do with Italy or pasta. But he was an artist wasn't he? He might not be a professional but he had the same quirks as one. Just like everyone else at the club. They had their own sets of strange personalities but it didn't turn away the Italian in any way.

When it came down to it it must have been because he was a tortured peer. It seemed that once he was picked out by The Group, he was simultaneously isolated from the rest. Unfortunately for him, The Group didn't choose too many to pick on, it was him, Arthur, and a handful of others. Those handful of others didn't talk to Arthur or himself at all, much too scared that if they did they would get beaten more.

Feliciano and Arthur were forever marked as the _untouchables_.

This did not damper the Italian teen. Despite the last two years and this continued third year of utter darkness and complete loneliness he still saw a lit candle at the end of the tunnel. He had Arthur, his dark, gloomy, short tempered friend, his future at his uncle's restaurant in Italy with a family that waited for him with loving arms. He had a future that the ones who brought upon his pain and misery here in America did not have. As long as he had Arthur by his side to stand with him then nothing could stand in his way.

His metaphoric tail still wagged until his imaginary ears drooped as a sense of doom washed over him. Turning around he saw a broad chest and he looked up into violet eyes that both belonged to a body that loomed over him with a menacing shadow. Brown eyes widened as he looked underneath the intimidating teen's arms that were held by broad and muscular shoulders. Feliciano could see a certain Austrian kid wearing a black dress shirt with a royal blue vest that should have been left in the eighteen hundreds, and to top it off, a black silk tie. His arms were folded across his chest, his eyebrows quirked in a judging manner. Overall his appearance looked like one of a critic who was displeased with the work his eyes had fallen and settled upon, except of course that slight smile that graced his thin red lips.

His name was Roderich Edelstein.

"Good morning Vargas," said the teen that still stood in front of him, still stood there scaring the brunette senseless. The overgrown teen above him was Ivan Broginski, a Russian transfer student who came from the depths of an endless frozen hell. He was known for his quiet and scary intimidation techniques but otherwise hardly touched any of his targets except for perhaps holding him back (he never picked on girls). The brute always wore a white scarf no matter the season, today he wore an equally white tightfit long-sleeved shirt with black pants. Ivan also took orders from the head of The Group but was hardly trusted as he always kept a soft, mischievous smile on his face.

Feliciano was confused as to why they stood there not moving an inch towards him until the Austrian spoke, "We know Vargas, no more hiding," straight white teeth sparkled conflicting with a wicked smile. The shorter brunette gulped and shook in his shoes. Roderich flicked his hand in the air motioning for Ivan to follow him.

The Russian laid a heavy paw on the little Italian's shoulder, "Nice talking to you Vargas." he smiled as he walked away; however, Feliciano did not smile. His heart lied in his stomach.

"Tsk, useless." blue eyes squinted behind thin framed glasses as the darker brunette walked past Feliciano.

_What did they know? Why will they be seeing me at lunch? They never saw us at lunch. Oh no._ The brunette tried to shake his fear as he made his way to his first hour.

* * *

The morning was definitely unusual for the German student. While he didn't enunciate his English words like most Germans do (unless he was really angry), he still had his accent which fascinated even the other foreign students. It was day one at his American school life and already he had girls hanging off of him. This wasn't new as this happened quite often back in Germany, reasons why he went to an all boys military school during the allusive and confusing years of puberty. The girls acted like cats in heat wherever he went, America was no exception apparently. The only problem with American girls was that most wore shorts that looked short enough to be their underwear and their breasts popped out like they were robins trying to capture a mate's attention.

He groaned as one long haired raven girl purred in his ear. This was going to be a long two years if he had to put up with this everyday. In all honesty he didn't see the appeal in women. They were loud, they were giddy, and having some dirty whore trying to feel him up in the middle of class made him nauseous.

The German teen was always self conscious about his distaste for women and figured that if his family found out they would disown him. This secret was hence forth kept to himself.

By some miracle and without his realization the bell to the next class had rung and he looked to his new friend Antonio for help as he tried to get up from his seat. Luckily Antonio smiled, walking up to Ludwig and the crowd of girls, informing them that they had to go.

Out of history class and into the hallway they went as they headed for fourth hour Forensics, the class before lunch. Antonio placed his arms behind his head and sighed, "Man! You're so lucky you've got all those chicks on you, not that I would want them because they're nasty, but at least you're getting more attention than I've ever gotten." _Not that he would want them? What does he mean by that?_ Ludwig thought curiously.

"Oh..." Ludwig just mumbled as response. "I don't really like them that much either, they seem too... frivolous..." he said hoping he got the word correct.

"Ha ha I guess you're right." Whew he got it right.

"Dudes!" the two teens heard and they looked down the hall in front of a dark classroom door, there stood the dirty blond teen that Ludwig saw from this morning. _What was his name? Oh right, it was Alfred I believe._ The lively quarterback kept waving and smiling until they reached him.

"My man, ready for lunch?" Antonio high-fived Alfred and Alfred slapped the quiet German on the back.

"Dude I'm SOO hungry I could eat a cow right now!" the American yelled enthusiastically.

"Wouldn't be surprised if you did, what with your appetite." the Spaniard gave a pointed look.

"So mean Anton!" he yelled in feigned sadness, covering his heart with his hands before smiling widely. "Whatever just one more class to go! And dude, Ludwig, no need to be so stiff, you can relax around me. I don't judge. Just be yourself." he spoke genuinely.

"It's true Ludwig, Captain America over here has little opinion of everyone. Easy to get along with, hard to make mad. However, Alfred, this dude is just like this, stiff as a board and full of manners. He's good to be around, a great example really so don't go turning him into a wild boy." he said as he patted Ludwig on the chest with the back of his hand. Ludwig was still having difficulty deciphering these social interactions.

"Hey I take that as a compliment thank you very much." Alfred threw sass at his friend. "Okay broskies let's do this shit! Forensics here we go!" he shouted in a heroic tone and he glided into the class with his arms out like an airplane making _swishing_ sounds as he went down the classroom to the very back lab station, sitting in the high metal chair that scraped across the floor.

Antonio easily followed the teen into the very dark classroom while Ludwig reluctantly entered through the door looking for the teacher to inform that he was new. He was about to give up thinking the the teacher wasn't in yet until someone ran up behind him and screamed 'boo!'.

Ludwig was unfazed as he turned around to see a short, raven haired teacher with blue eyes and large glasses. "Aw come on kid!" she whined as she lowered herself off of her tippy toes and looked up at the German student. Man she was short.

"Um.. I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt." the blond said nervously at the crazy teacher as he handed her his schedule.

She scratched her head while she looked at it then nodded, "Yup you're in the right place. Name's Ms. C," she shook his hand more formerly as if mocking his stiffness, "You can take a seat at the back lab station with those two block heads you walked in with earlier. They will be your lab partners for the rest of the year. Oh and try to have fun, any form of science is better learned when you're having a good time." All Ludwig did was nod as a response as he walked over to Antonio and Alfred.

For the rest of the hour the class remained dark as the teacher went over notes on the board and even went over their trial lab they were having on Friday that week. Ms. C started to seem like a more adequate teacher each slide she went to, she made the class learn but also made it fun. The blond German thought that he could get use to this class.

Ludwig was slightly worried that Antonio and Alfred were going to be noisy and get him in trouble but they actually kept their volume low and focused. It was quite shocking really, and because each lab station was so far apart from one another it would make it hard for any girls to come and get to know the new student. He thanked whatever higher being made that possible.

He felt that his stomach was about to rumble and worried if the impending noise would be heard until the bell finally rung signalling that it was time for lunch. Alfred shot up and yelled "Lunch time!" as he ran out. Antonio and Ludwig following behind, both chuckling lightly at the cerulean eyed teen's antics.

As they walked into the cafeteria the German then came to the realization why the cafeteria was so large. Every student shared the same lunch time as it was jam packed with teens of all four grades. Ludwig stopped to gaze at amazement of how many there were. He didn't realize that at all as the rest of the campus was nicely spread out.

He felt his arm being pulled toward the piling lunch line, "Hope you don't mind fast food dude because that's all we've got in terms of time." Antonio said as they stepped into the lunch line behind Alfred who was jumping up and down uncontrollably. "We need to hurry if you want to get anything decent. If you don't want really fatty foods from this line I suggest their chicken breast sandwich with sesame seed bun. It's the healthiest they got that doesn't come with a side of heart attack or diabetes." the brunette mumbled to him covering his words from Alfred, shielding with his hand. The blond simply nodded in response.

Ludwig took Antonio's advice and ordered the chicken sandwich, Antonio getting the same while Alfred got a huge cheeseburger, fries, and soda. Can anyone say obesity with a side of death?

They walked to a large table that had a bunch of other obnoxiously loud teens smiling and eating away. They all paused momentarily as the three of them sat down, Ludwig being in between Antonio and Alfred. "Hey dudes! Meet the new guy, he's Ludwig from Germany!" Alfred smiled greatly before digging into his greasy burger.

"Oh?" A black haired Korean cooed, "What part of Germany?" he asked curiously.

"Berlin." Ludwig answered quickly.

"East or west?" he questioned more.

"Umm the wall no longer exists..." the German said while thinking that the kid was an idiot, "But I guess the west side," he still spoke.

The Spaniard next to him cleared his throat, "Anyways Ludwig, this is Francis, he's French and the captain of the soccer team, um European football if you will." Antonio motioned to a really flamboyant looking teen with wavy blond locks.

"Oui," he said nodding towards Ludwig from across the round table, "Bonjour, I hope we can get along, non?"

"Yeah he runs this bitch." Alfred interrupted through his mouthful of food.

"Oh shut up you little piggy!" Francis retorted aggravatingly so at the American.

"Yeah whatever Frenchie," he called back teasingly and laughed as the Frenchman looked at him in disgust and anger.

Antonio rolled his eyes as he introduced the rest, "This is Simon from Denmark, Im Yong Soo who is South Korean but has lived here his entire life. That piece of work is the almighty Austrian pianist, Roderich," he flashed Ludwig an all knowing smile which made the German quite nervous as to his personality. "And this big guy," he patted a rather tall and broad teen who then became the first person to intimidate Ludwig besides his own father, " is Ivan from the snowy depths of Russia." All the called boys nodded towards the German as a welcome and he nodded back.

Ludwig didn't realize that a teen passed by them until Alfred pointed him out, "Hey Mattie! Come join us today!" the German looked and finally noticed a boy who looked much like Alfred stood there paralyzed, he had to admit he seemed more like an extremely shy version of Alfred. The boy called Mattie turned his head down and walked away with his own lunch. Ludwig gave him a questioning look, "Aww man he never eats with us. Oh Ludwig he's my little brother." He nodded in understanding and noticed as the Frenchman shot the retreating boy a glare.

This look struck a chord. Ludwig was always good at telling what kind of person that the people around him were and he got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. When he first met Antonio and Alfred they seemed lively and good people, but this group... He couldn't shake the feeling that they caused trouble and were and organized group of sorts with a pecking order. He'll have to careful around them.

To further his suspicion, the one named Roderich's eyes shifted towards the exit of the cafeteria, alerting the lively Francis on whatever it was he noticed. Simultaneously the rest of the group but Alfred looked (he was too engaged in his food to realize the shift of the mood), their eyes dimming a dark and fierce color, like they were lions zeroing in and looking hungrily at their prey, Antonio however looked anxiously between all of the teens and this made Ludwig somewhat nervous. When Ludwig looked all he could see were two heads leaving the cafeteria, one blond and one brunette, the significance these two had, he had no clue.

Francis and Roderich were the first to stand and soon Im, Simon, and Ivan followed suit as they slowly stalked their way towards the exit, forgetting about their trays of food.

Ludwig made a move to follow them thinking that he had to until he looked down and saw Antonio still sitting, giving him a disapproving look, "You don't want to follow them Ludwig, you don't want to get into their mess trust me."

"But what are they doing?" he questioned curiously.

"Trust me, you just don't want to get involved. They are nothing but trouble. I'm trying to get myself out of the grave I dug, I don't want you to have to do the same." Ludwig sat back down and simply nodded.

Alfred finally finished his meal and finally looked up and turned his head around trying to find the missing members of the group, "Hey where did everybody go?" he asked.

Antonio only sighed.

* * *

Crap, he was late. If he didn't get to lunch soon then they would spot him. _Why the hell were the hallways more clogged than usual today?_ Arthur wondered as he raced down the hall to the cafeteria. When he got there he was out of breath, but instantly he caught sight of a small lock of curled brunette hair sticking out of a line but where he stood he was pretty far back. The punk teen raced to his Italian friend and his saved spot in line.

"Ve~ I'm sorry Arthur, I had difficulty getting here today for some reason." he smiled apologetically as the blond came up behind him.

The Brit huffed, "It's alright, me too." but as he said this a little red flag went up and his senses became on high alert. Feliciano did not miss this change. "Strange, isn't it? That both of us are late. That's never happened before." At this statement Feliciano noticeably grew scared.

They stood in line nonetheless for lunch, though Arthur stood behind the oblivious Feliciano as a form of protection. If The Group was going to come at them he was going to try to detect them beforehand. It might seem that the two were on high alert for no good reason, sure they might get their butts kicked but what's the big deal? No, if it was the whole group it could result in a visit to the nearest hospital.

Once at the front of the line, Feliciano ordered a nice plate of spaghetti as for Arthur, he got simple chicken tenders. They hurriedly walked to the exit of the cafeteria hoping that no teachers nor bullies notice their leaving. It was past the door frame that Arthur paused.

He looked down at Feliciano who in turn gave him questioning brown eyes, "Feliciano, which is more important to you: our hideout or your unscathed skin." he asked seriously.

"Ve~ they saw us?!" the Italian began to panic, about to run but paused realizing that if he bolted that also meant that he would be leaving Arthur behind all by himself. "Our hideout," he squeaked.

"If you run now you might make it, otherwise walk slowly so they don't know where we're going." Arthur waited for a response but did not receive a verbal answer.

And so they slowly walked the empty hallway side by side, no words were spoken between the friends. They knew that if they simply took what The Group had to offer they would be better off. Sure enough Arthur could feel their approach and soon enough both boys felt the back of the collars of their shirts being pulled. Ivan on Feliciano and Simon on Arthur.

* * *

a/n: Quick input on the teachers. While their names are fake their personalities are real. I thought it would be nice to incorporate them.

Mr. Zinger (not his real name) was a great teacher and though he will never read this I thank him for being a teacher who wanted me to continue in ceramics even though I am unable to.

For Miss C, she wasn't actually a Forensics teacher but she always wanted to have that as a job. Thanks to her for making science fun!

And Miss W is an English teacher but she never act like it. And that group thing with the lantern? She performed it in our first week of school which was actually an activity she stole from a university in a psychology class. Literally, there were tissues, tears, and hugs. Myself and the guys all stared at the girls who were nuts. One girl tried to hug me and I gave the death glare. No touchies ~(0_0)~

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed part one, please review!


	3. Chapter 2 Stand Together II

Hello~ so this is part II of chapter two. This was updated on the same day as part I simply because it was already written.

Disclaimer: As we all know I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. Warning: Contains strong language and a little violence for anyone who would be disturbed with reading such material for whatever reason. All the characters listed in part I is also in part II so no need to say it again, right?

Please enjoy and review those of you who would like to, please? ^.^

* * *

Ch. 2 Stand Together

Part II

~Flash Back~

And so they slowly walked the empty hallway side by side, no words were spoken between the friends. They knew that if they simply took what The Group had to offer they would be better off. Sure enough Arthur could feel their approach and soon enough both boys felt the back of the collars of their shirts being pulled. Ivan on Feliciano and Simon on Arthur.

* * *

"Well well, caught you two trying to scurry out of the cafeteria. Kirkland, Vargas. You know that's not permitted unless you have a teacher's pass~" a blond French teen came into view as well as one Austrian Roderich, both allowing smiles to appear on their face. One Korean known as Im Yong Soo stepped behind the two weaker bullies as if in protection. Feliciano looked like he was about to have a panic attack at this point.

"And what about you? What the hell do you want?" Arthur muttered then cursed himself for opening his mouth.

All the teens around him frowned in disapproval, "Now Eyebrows, we came here to inform you of your behavior that could get you into trouble. We're only trying to help." Francis rose his forearms mid chest in feigned helpfulness. He walked up to the green eyed punk, slapping down his tray of food and stepping on the wasted chicken tenders. He smiled as the shorter blond was still being held back by the Danish teen. Roderich soon followed suit, stepping in front of Feliciano, slipping up his meal of spaghetti, the meat sauce covering the poor Italian, strings of pasta hanging from his hair and clothes. This was their statement.

"Useless," the Austrian stated as tears began to well up in Feliciano's eyes. Arthur's blood boiled, no one could hurt his friend in any way.

"You bastard!" he yelled as he tore away from Simon's currently weak grip, lurching to pounce on the pansy boy but soon his shirt collar was grabbed again to hold him back, the dark brown eyes of Im Yong Soo stared into emeralds as the Brit was punched hard in the gut. He coughed in agony but nonetheless he tried to move forward. Against his silent promise to his Italian friend he decided that if he was going down then he wasn't going down without a fight.

Simon pulled his back against his body, he noticed in his fit that Feliciano was thrown to the ground by the scary Russian teen, only furthering Arthur's anger. However he had bigger problems at the moment. Said Russian now stood in front of him with a wide and happy smile with his eyes closed. Arthur's heart stopped within his chest cavity.

"Now, you would like to apologize, da?" he questioned, smile only growing wider if that was even possible. Green eyes looked down at a scrambling Italian. _That's not right. He didn't deserve this._

"You can go ahead and kiss my ass you communist bastard," Arthur collected snot in the back of his throat and spat in Ivan's face. A frown began to form on the silver haired teen's face, not even bothering to wipe the gunk that was slimming its way down his face. The Brit could clearly see the dark and ominous aura that now surrounded the Russian teen. He made a mistake.

"Is that so Kirkland?" the Russian said too calmly for any of the teens' comfort, "Shall I oblige you? Though of course I will not be kissing your so called ass." he stated grabbing onto Arthur's throat and shoving him against the wall whilst Simon pulled out from behind as to not cushion the Brit's blow against some lockers. Ivan glared angrily at the prey that stood in his clutches, raising him up slightly off the ground.

"Please don't!" Arthur heard an Italian voice call and witnessed as Feliciano's auburn brown hair popped up behind Ivan's shoulder, at the same moment Ivan swung his arm back preparing to punch the blond. The Russian's elbow collided with Feliciano's face throwing him off balance and again back onto the floor. This weak attempt of saving his friend was for nothing as the momentum of the punch did not falter but instead came into contact with Arthur's face, once... twice... three times and the Russian was done, each blow being harder and more excruciatingly painful then the last as he threw all of his weight into his shoulders, down his arm, and into his knuckles.

"Ja~ Look at you two standing up for each other. How pathetic. Hehe~!" the well known Frenchman called out. The Englishman slid to the floor watching the Russian step back, smile back in place. His vision was blurry but he wasn't done. He tried to get back up and throw himself into the fight only to be given a swift blow to the solar plex by a certain blond Danish. After that one kick all but Ivan joined in giving Arthur kick after kick to his body. All he could think about was the pain he would be in the next morning waking up. He might not go to school.

He felt one hit his chest and slowly he opened one eye only to have to look up at shadowed faces with the grins mirrored to the Cheshire Cat and a French teen's eyes glowing wildly at his misery, "Was that a high heel I felt Francis?" he threw that insult at the teen only to be rewarded with a kick to the face. He didn't know how long he laid there receiving blow after blow but the group eventually dissipated from the scene, walking back to the cafeteria.

Once safe the blond Brit sat himself against the lockers looking at Feliciano with worry. During the elbow to the face scene apparently the Italian had fallen onto the ground losing consciousness momentarily. "Feli..." he mumbled quietly as he scooted towards his friend, blood was still pouring from his friend's face but from what he could see it wasn't broken. Brown eyes slowly opened as the brunette sat up from being woken up.

"Arthur! Are you all right?!" he began to freak as soon as he saw his friend, black, purple, and red staining him all over his body. The Brit had received a busted lip, a bloody and possibly broken nose, a black eye, and nasty gashes along his forehead and cheeks where the skin had stretched too far for the comfort of the skin and decided to split open.

"Hey is your nose all right?" Green eyes stared as he touched the Italian's nose who winced from the sudden pain. It wasn't broken thank god. The poor teen was covered in blood and spaghetti along with the sauce. He looked like a mess. "Well," the blond said as he stood up and helped his friend, flinching from the pain that coursed through his body, "It's not broken, it'll be painful for awhile and you might get light bruising on the bridge of your nose and around your eyes. Now let's go clean you up."

"But-" Feliciano didn't finish his sentence as he was being dragged back to the Out Of Order bathroom that they had managed to keep secret for another day, the trashed food forgotten and left for a janitor to clean. Feliciano kept his head down in sadness as his more injured friend was helping him. Once in the bathroom Arthur began taking wads of toilet paper, wetting them lightly so they did not dissolve and rung them out before dabbing it on the Italian to get the blood off his face and handing some to the brunette himself to get him to stop the bleeding. Once cleaned Arthur sat his friend down on the ground, Feliciano looked up worried, "Arthur-"

"Stay here," he cut him off, "I'll go get us some more lunch. No reason to go hungry right?" he smiled lightly as he walked towards the exit, Feliciano getting up but stopped midway as the door to the bathroom closed shut. Slowly he sat back down, curling into himself, allowing tears to fall and cries to choke out. He hated America.

* * *

So Arthur went in search of food. He knew he wouldn't be able to go back into the cafeteria the way he was now, but he knew that his Italian friend had a bottomless pit of a stomach and he did not want to see his friend go hungry after having his face smashed nor did he want to hear the brunette complain about starving the rest of the lunch period.

This wasn't the first time the blond Brit had to get a meal outside of the cafeteria so it took him no time at all to navigate through the school hallways till he stood in front of a door. The lights were off and the sign that once said 'Teacher's Lounge' had long been scratched off as it was replaced by an even larger room. This is where the food will be. In his pocket he pulled out a quarter, sliding it under the door and calling out 'tsundere' alerting whoever lurked behind it know that he was here on business.

Sure enough the door creaked open to reveal brown Asian eyes. Only when the Japanese student recognized the other did he open it enough for him to show his full face, "Hello Kirkland. What happened to your face?" he asked genuinely to the blond that stood before him.

"What do you think happened to my face Kiku, now are you going to let me in or what?" he demanded getting agitated as he was left exposed to the barren walls of the high school. The door opened enough to allow the Brit to move in, motion sensor lights coming on to allow the two teens to see.

"Wow they did a number on you. Anything happened to your Italian friend?" he questioned as the Japanese teen lounged against the table that lied in the center of the very small room.

"Only a bloody nose," he answered not really knowing what Kiku saw as he hadn't yet passed a mirror to assess his own damage, just running out to shake off his nerves. Kiku nodded. The Japanese student transferred to America sophomore year and had ranked the smartest student then too. He was another target of The Group, but unlike Feliciano and Arthur, he was able to hide beneath the shadows, skulking around his predators without being caught. Today, like any other day, he wore his dark gray hoodie with black pants. All the better to hide in. He knew the high school like the back of his hand, knowing every secret back room and how to pick every single locks. If you needed anything- that means ANYTHING- you went to Kiku Honda. He was a master of all things mischievous.

"So I am assuming that you want lunch this time around?" Kiku finally stopped the minor chitchat as he wanted the room to fade back to darkness.

"Yes," the blond answered as he opened up his wallet to assess what little money he had left. _Damn only enough for one instant ramen._ he thought. "Gimme one instant ramen please?" he said as he handed Kiku two bucks. The Japanese teen nodded, taking the money and leaned back as he pulled out a Styrofoam cup.

"Water and microwave are in the back, please hurry." Arthur nodded as he went to go make the meal. After the water was added and the microwave made its final beat he moved to the door to exit, Kiku tossing him a fork to go with the food. They waved goodbye as the blond left. He walked cautiously through the still empty hallways, eventually making it to the bathroom. When he walked in he saw Feliciano hunched over crying and his heart ached at his friend's pain. Feliciano was a lot more sensitive, especially when it came to words. They hurt him the most. It wasn't easy for either teen and that's why they stood together so that when they got injured they would be right next to each other to lick their wounds. He heard the brunette's stomach growl and he chuckled at the noise.

He kneeled down before his friend, shaking his shoulder until the Italian looked up to see steam rising from a ramen cup, "Eat up. You shouldn't starve." green eyes smiled as the teen handed the other the cup and fork, sitting beside him looking up at the ceiling.

"What about you Arthur?" the smaller teen questioned, feeling guilty to be taking the food now.

"Don't worry about it. I lost my appetite anyway. Plus you gave me breakfast this morning so I owed you one. Just eat up and don't ask questions." Feliciano nodded solemnly as he began to eat his lunch mumbling a 'thank you' to his blond friend.

Today wasn't all that great.

* * *

The two friends quickly entered the school lockers before the bell to leave lunch even rung. They figured that if they got dressed quickly then there would be no other mishaps with lone bullies that liked to nit pick at them, especially at fifth hour. They had dashed to their lockers that were in a far corner that lied past the school's team lockers. Both looked down as they quickly got undressed and redressed in gym clothes, hearing as they finished the bell to leaving lunch. At least they made that in time.

"Ve~ do you think coach is going to force us to run?" Feliciano asked Arthur with worry. Besides running away from bullies, he was never good at any form of exercise which made the Brit wonder how the brunette could eat so much without exercising and not get fat. It was unrealistic in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's track day. You should know this, every Wednesday is cardio day." he stated feeling a little upset too. Though he was more athletic than his Italian friend that still did not mean that he enjoyed doing it.

Once dressed, they entered the gym before the coach did. True to their accusations the pair along with the class went out to the track after warm ups to run the entirety of the dreaded track over and over until the class was done, of course having to run at least a mile (four laps) before walking the rest.

"Come on dude! This is the last lap! You don't want coach assigning you another, do you?" the blond Brit yelled back to the Italian who was running at an decreasingly slow pace.

"Ve~ but this is hard Arthur!" he yelled as he desperately tried to make his legs move faster all the while having his lungs feel like they were about to explode.

Arthur slowed down dramatically until he was behind his friend, "It'll be worse if you have to run another," the blond said as he started pushing his friend into a faster sprint, _Just one more straight away._

They made it and moved to walk on the outer ring for the rest of the class time until the coach blew his whistle, "Kirkland!" the blond looked back at the tall bald man who looked like he was on steroids. "What did I just see right there?! Run another lap!" the green eyed teen groaned before waving back to the brunette and began running again. A few snide comments were given by his peers who ran beside him.

The rest of gym class went like that. The injured friends were obviously ignored by the coach who's motto prevented him from getting into his students' business: _They don't ask me about my life so why should I ask them about theirs'?_

The steroid induced man blew his whistle signalling for his class to go to the lockers and dress out. Feliciano and Arthur both ran ahead of the group as to not be stuck in there with various tormentors like their first year. They had learned from their mistakes and made every movement in assurance that it would not occur again.

They dressed quickly dashing threw the halls before it could be filled with the stampede of other teens trying to make it to the last class of the day. Just before they reached a corner at which the friends part for their classes, Feliciano stops wide eyed.

Arthur continues until he realizes his friend's pause turning around and quirking a thick eyebrow he asks, "What is it?"

"Ve~! I left my cellphone in my locker!" the brunette began to panic, "We don't have enough time to go back!"

"Hey hey Feliciano it's alright. We're staying after school for Art Club so we could go beforehand and get it back all right?" the blond tried to calm the Italian down.

"B-but the football team will be in there won't they? I can't go alone!" he started to spazz out some more.

"Then I'll meet you at the locker room and go in there with you okay? I don't think they'll hurt us, there are a few teammates in there who don't condone such things." green eyes met brown ones as Arthur rested his palms on his smaller friend's shoulders. He nodded in response and he smiled lightly, "Good, then see you in front of the locker room." he patted his shoulders once more before turning to walk around the corner. Feliciano stood there nodding to himself that everything would be all right.

* * *

Arthur had stood for about a minute outside the lockers waiting for Feliciano's arrival. He knew that the Italian teen's class was father away and up stairs but _what is taking him so long?_ He let out a sigh, some how he had managed to hide from the football players that were going into the locker room also noting the same tall German blond walking in. That dude's first day and he was already on the team. _Popular, arrogant bastard._

Arthur turned into a small cut out that on both ends of the wall had a boy's and girl's bathroom that both had doors to the locker rooms from inside. This cut out also had a water fountain in which Arthur bent down to lap up some cool water. Straightening his spine he let out a happy sigh. He heard running down the hall and thinking that it was Feliciano he walked into the hall only to be hit by a large and fast moving object. _Hard._

He slid across the tiled floor, his eyes closed as he rubbed his head that had made contact with a shoulder in the process. "Oi watch where you're going you bloody wanker!" he yelled at the object that was still standing, letting out his British heritage.

"Woah hey I'm sorry dude. I didn't see you there, but then again you popped out of nowhere. Hey are you all right?" green eyes slowly opened to look into sky blue orbs, a hand outstretched into his face. It couldn't be, it's that damn Alfred Jones. "I don't think I hit you that hard did I? Your face looks awful, what happened?" _What's with all of your stupid questions?_ the Brit wondered.

The shorter blond glared at the hand that was still in his face, refusing it and helping himself up instead, though showed a tad difficulty. "Keep your nose out of other peoples' business." he grumbled, "Go play your dumb testosterone filled game, Alfred. You're known as the star aren't you? Stupid git." he spat.

"Huh? Wait you know my name?" the well built teen looked honestly surprised at this information and seemed stumped for a second for an unknown reason before a wide and bright grin covered half of his face, "Awesome! I didn't know I was so popular! My full name's Alfred F. Jones if you want to know! Nice ta meet ya!" he said with a slang and hung out his hand to be shook, "What's yours?"

"Piss off." the Brit said folding his arms a walking past Alfred to lean against the lockers, not looking at the school star. The blue eyed teen's face withheld a dejected shadow before turning away and going into the locker room.

Arthur huffed as he heard the door shut. _What an idiot._ Of course he knew his name. The whole school never stopped talking about him. _Moron. Egotistical asshole. 'Your face looks awful',_ he mimicked in his head. It was then that Feliciano made it to the locker rooms looking at Arthur.

"Ve~ Arthur are you alright? Sorry I was late, a teacher held me after." he said feeling guilty that his friend had to wait for him.

"Yeah I'm fine dude. It's all right, that makes sense. Ready to go get your phone?" he asked as he pushed off the lockers, he really didn't want to go in there and possibly be seeing that Alfred kid again.

""Ve~ Yes but you don't have to go in," Arthur quirked an eyebrow at this, "Well, well you know I hate to point this out, but I'm faster at running away then you so I think it would be safer if I just go in..." he trailed of.

"Oh," he said, his lips mimicking the sound, "That's all right man, just hurry so we can get to Art Club."

"Ve~ Okay be right back!" the brunette called as he moved to the boy's bathroom.

Feliciano walked in a little shakily. _Good, no one in the bathroom section_ he thought although he could hear the jocks loudly converse in the other room. He slowly moved to the back door of the bathroom, the noises growing exceedingly louder now that the door that shut out the noise was opened. The Italian sighed heavily as he stepped into the room. In front of him was his locker but to get there he had to pass the aisles of the sports lockers. Now most hid in the back, as he could hear the voices but you never know if one brute would catch sight of him. He breathed in running at full speed to his locker that was dead in front of him, looking to the side as caution to see if any football players were out and open to see him pass by. That was when he paused slightly in his path.

In front of him stood an extremely tall and muscular teen whose bright blue eyes bore into his tiny frame. Not once had he ever seen this teen in school before. _Who is he?_ he pondered. The much larger teen stood in mid stripping, he was motioning to pull off a grey gym shirt, his torso in full view. For some reason Feliciano's face heated up at this view. The rippling abs and slightly wet skin slicked with sweat made the Italian uncomfortable in many places. The blond still was paused staring deeply at the brunette, cheeks slightly flushed. Feliciano saw another football player going into that aisle and remembering his mission he ran to his locker, opening it up and retrieving his phone, he sprinted out without looking at the peculiar German again.

Feliciano ran out with a gust of wind trailing behind him until he stopped dead in front of Arthur who was waiting patiently for him. The brunette lunged down to catch his breath, short and sharp portions of air entering his lungs and circulating through his veins. His face was still flushed in a way that told the blond it wasn't just from running.

"Feliciano, they didn't go after you, did they?" he questioned, his thick eyebrows contorting in the fashion of worry for his friend.

"Uh? W-what? N-no!" he stuttered causing the Brit to frown questioning what had gotten the little Italian's feathers all ruffled up. By the look on his face Feliciano wasn't going to tell him and he decided to drop it, not wanting to push his friend further.

"All right, if you say so. Anyways, let's get to Art Club before it's too late." he said as the friends headed up to Mr. Zinger's classroom for Art Club. Both smiling all the way.

* * *

To say the least Arthur was glad he went to club that day, in fact, he debated whether he should continue and go every Wednesday with Feliciano. Mr. Zinger had just gotten a new camera and let Arthur have some fun with it, in turn finding out that he had a knack for photography. Mr. Zinger had told him that if he kept going to the club meetings he would be willing to let him use his camera._ Awesome._

Mr. Zinger did ask the boys about their injuries but eventually dropped it when the two were determined to keep their lips zipped and their voices silent.

Feliciano had a great time as well, he was finishing up his painting of a plate of spaghetti and while that didn't seem all exciting it had a highlight. The focus was not supposed to be on the spaghetti even though it was on the center of the canvas and seemed to be the main focus point. No. It was the background that was supposed to be noticed. In the smallest of details the back showed the streets of Italy at night, the lights shimmering like the stars and the natives and tourists bubbling about. The canvas became alive and if you stared at the background long enough you felt like you were there, feeling the cool night air against your skin, hearing the voices of various languages, and even smell the aroma of mouth watering food that can only be deemed the true Italian cuisine. Feliciano had true and powerful talent in capturing the streets of his homeland.

Watching him paint was like watching a magic trick and while all the other students ignored the two friends, they didn't care. They were in there own little world. Arthur took a photograph of his friend painting as keepsake.

It was now well into the night, Feliciano did stay at his place for awhile, Arthur's mom being no where in sight. They finished their homework together and ended up playing a videogame or two, though neither were junkies to it like most of their peers. Feliciano got really excited and even showed Arthur a new anime about basketball that the blond Brit promised he would watch seeing as a third season was on its way.

The little Italian had been picked up by his guardian, Tim, a few hours ago. The Dutch boy ducking into the house for awhile to properly greet the younger blond, stealing a can of beer and leaving with the Brit's only friend. He then found himself alone.

The teen was downstairs grabbing a midnight snack before tucking in for the night when he heard the dreaded lock begin to jiggle as keys were thrown into it. Green eyes widened frantically seeing as he had no time to run back upstairs and hide in his dark sanctuary.

The front door opened wide as fits of laughter entered the room, Arthur's ears pricking at this horrendous sound. _Oh god, she's here._

He was now stuck as the woman's path cut him from the kitchen to the staircase. He was officially trapped by that blasted woman. The laughter continued it's way into the kitchen until it stopped at the sight of Arthur. That was when the blond was given the face of the second voice he had heard enter into his home. The mysterious and unknown man as well as his mother were frozen in their tracks, smile erased, his mother's face contorting with one of hatred and disgust. Arthur was disgusted as well. Though his mother was rather large, that wasn't the problem. She was only large because of her drinking problem, her body contorting to bloat over like a bubble especially at her liver and her face was swollen. The woman's pudgy fingers were curled around the stranger's waist as he tried to hold her up as well as himself.

"Who's he?" the man slurred, a finger pointing almost accusingly at the teen.

"That's just my bastard son, don't mind him." she spat in his general direction.

"It's true, you know," Arthur began as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Arthur, don't start." his mother gave him a warning tone, letting go of her one night stand to tower over her son who noticeably shrank below the looming drunkard woman.

"You said it yourself didn't you? Now if you'll excuse me..." he tried to move around her so that he could skulk back to his refuge.

"Oi, did I say you could leave?" she took one large paw and shoved the blond back.

Once physical contact was made, Arthur's whole demeanor had shifted to one of rage, "The hell?! Don't you just want me to get out of your sight so you can go fuck this bastard?" he said the latter of his sentence quieter, almost timidly to avoid further punishment.

"How dare you!" she screamed, raising her hand and throwing it across the Brit's cheek, the skin resting with a pink shade. He didn't flinch, it was so common it didn't matter any more. He face became shadowed as he cast his gaze to the floor. He knew this would be a short spat before she tossed him to one room or another. "But you're right, I want you out. Now. Not even in this house you little fucker, so do us the kindness and grace us with your absence for the night." she said as she pointed to the front door. Unlike Arthur, she had brown eyes which glowed a dying ember.

"I have school tomorrow, I need a bed." he mumbled.

"I don't care." she spat.

"Of course _you_ don't," he said as he shuffled past his mother as she permitted him access. He was walking past the strange man but stopped when he heard a light chuckle escape the man's throat.

"Damn, Elizabeth. You told me that your son was a weak link, but I didn't know he was this bad. Look at 'im, his face is beaten to a bloody pulp." he laughed with a hearty chuckle. "'ere son, take this mirror and take a good look at your ugly self while you're out." he said as he reached into Arthur's mother's purse that he had been carrying, taking out the woman's black makeup mirror and tossing it at the teen. The woman named Elizabeth gave a nasty drunken chortle, feeling proud of the man she hardly knew.

For whatever reason the blond took it, growling and staring daggers at the man before turning on his heel and walking out the front door, slamming it as he left. He stomped off into the cool night, it being October he shivered at the slight cold, clutching the mirror in his hand. He didn't know where he was going, he just let his angry feet saunter him off to a distant land. In a few hours he would sneak back in just to get perhaps an hour of rest though right now it was only probably twelve o'clock at night.

His feet eventually led him of to the side of a road, a railing cutting off possible accidents as there was a cliff beside it. Arthur stood there, holding the mirror up he flipped it open, never once glancing at a mirror all day since the incident. Indeed the strange man was right, the Brit's face was as swollen as it was sore. The cut lip, the black and blue, and the left over dried blood made his face look hideous, not that he wasn't already, In truth, the teen was extremely self conscious about his looks though most would say he was handsome he saw nothing but a freak. Green eyes shimmered with fresh tears and his already broken nose stung ten times worse now that his face was injured. In anger he threw the mirror out over to the cliff and as he did this the depths of his mind thought he wanted to do the same. This wasn't knew, he thought about this everyday. But... Wouldn't that be easier? To be flown out there and forgotten. He wouldn't have to hold Feliciano back and get into more trouble than he already was. His mother wouldn't have to see him anymore either. And his dad? Well when his dad died on death row then they would certainly reunite in hell. The world didn't need a kid like Arthur Kirkland. He breathed in deep as he climbed over the road railing, his arms holding him back over the cut off cliff.

_All it takes is one step. Right?_

* * *

a/n: Guess what? Cliffhanger! Ha, I love those. Depressing ending right? You'll have to wait till the next chapter to find out. I want to thank those again who are bothering to read this.

And thank you to my first two reviewers that I got just tonight ^.^ it means a lot.

To _Monica Honda_- you're my first reviewer thank you so much! Your review has told me that not all is lost with this story.

To _ .143_- I really don't know where I'm going with this fic or how I'll be changing up the characters, I'm just hoping that my late night adrenaline and caffeine induced brain is not making a fool of itself. And now you know what has happened, but there is still more to come :3 . Thank you for taking the time to review.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter and please, I implore you to review. I love hearing all forms of criticism. ^.^


	4. Chapter 3: Captivated

Hey everyone~! Haha yeah so I recently found out that I can't keep to any of my personal deadlines, oops. I thought that I was going to have loads of time for this but then I discovered this really awesome JeanXMarco fic that I just HAD to read, and it was long... and I think my eyes are going to be crossed if I keep staring at this computer as much as I've had... My bad.

Anyways, I'm really happy that people have been reviewing this story and I want to thank anyone whose taking the time to read this. I know I left the last chapter on a cliff hanger but fear not! You will find out what happens here. :) As I've said I do NOT own Hetalia or any of it's characters.

I don't think I have to name all of the characters in this one, there won't be anyone popping up that hasn't been listed already, I'll do that if I add characters later on.

Also! I suck at working with websites or technology, it's a nope skill. So I now took the time to fully discover my abilities of the online world and have responded to a few reviews and will try my best to respond to all of them. I will also give shout outs at the end to those of you who send in awesome reviews that make my day, though most do.

Thank you and please enjoy and review! ^.^

* * *

Chapter 3: Captivated

The autumn air breathed coolly against the pale skin that shone in the moonlight, but that flesh was shaking. The body anticipating a fall that would be quick and painless. The image of his small structure tumbling down the cliff was the only thing he could see. It was the only thing he had wanted. So many times he had imagined falling off of these rocks and into the wilderness that lied below so that his body may never be uncovered, so that people would think that he had become the average teenage runaway only for no one to know that...

They were wrong.

He wanted to disappear, to relieve his friend of the chains that bound him to one Arthur Kirkland. He was only a menace to society. What was his purpose? He was a walking train wreck, a ticking time bomb destined to blow up, doomed to hurt the only person he cared about.

One friend.

He would leave this world with only the memories of one friend. One friend, but he would leave this world and in his last seconds of his life he would not be seeing the light in his friend's eyes or the smile that filled him with hope everyday. No. It was not this face that he would see, nor his own. Nor his wretched mother, nor his oblivious teachers. What face would he see then?

Enemies.

Scoundrels. Pompous assholes that tormented him everyday. His creamy white skin was marred black and blue, scars that would never heal. He couldn't decide what was worse. Taking the blow day by day of words that were poison to his mind, that were knives thrown at his heart as if he was a practice target. They didn't need the practice.

They were experts.

Or perhaps it was the beating of bones against flesh, the tearing of skin, the gut retching kicks that he received just as often. Unlike most he didn't need to hurt himself... He just needed to open his mouth to say one word and he would gain the pain he was looking for. Insult free of charge.

Tears could not save him.

His screams were never heard.

What was the point of trying to fight each day and pretend that everything was all right? A slap, a few insults, that is not what brought him here tonight. He was not overreacting. This wasn't for one bad day at school, and one bad night at home. This was for every time he breathed, for every time he exhaled the breath of Arthur Kirkland.

He exhaled and smiled at this notion. How many breaths will he take, how much more oxygen will he waste until he frees the Earth of his presence? A beautiful gift is what his death would be.

_All it takes is one step. Right?_

He let one foot slip beneath him, he could feel the rubble from beneath his shoe. He could feel as his heel left the edge of tar from the road. There was a crack. His toes dived down into rocks, the sliding of earth against earth. He will cherish this sound. He let himself slip.

What did this child see?

A pair of blue eyes.

* * *

The trio was left behind for quite some time. The Spaniard grew more nervous as each minute passed, leaving a blond German to wonder what for. Likewise the American blond grew worried but tried to swipe away the thick atmosphere that lingered in the air. Alfred was never good with dealing with emotions that lied particularly on the edge. He chatted enthusiastically as possible to Ludwig about various American football teams and at some points the German would oblige the teen and communicate back.

It was a while until the rest of the members that had previously left returned. Their faces were smug and satisfied. Ludwig didn't like this one bit. The Russian student now sat in front of him, that soft smile seemed to have a mission that was against the German. What was this mission, he had no clue. Whatever it was the Russian seemed to have put up a front as if challenging the blond.

That was when Ludwig saw red. There on Ivan's knuckles held a deep red that was turning brown around the edges. It could only be blood.

Ludwig cleared his throat, only Ivan had noticed as the rest of the male teens continued on with their conversations as if they had never left. Alfred quickly joining in to wash away his unsettling feelings. Antonio had completely withdrew himself from the group and now sat idly by in his own little world.

"Umm, Ivan..." Ludwig began, violet eyes meeting blue ones as an answer of attention. "You have blood on your knuckles." he pointed at the two fists that lied balled up on the table as if they were trophies.

The Russian lifted one paw up and examined his knuckles, "Hmm I wonder when that happened. Though you never know, accidents do happen, da?" he looked sincere but Ludwig knew that that couldn't be the Russian's blood as his skin was left unscathed. What had happened while they were gone? Ivan gave a knowing smile to the German. This gave the blond a shiver. Things were starting to add up.

Ludwig tried his best to remove his attention away from the silver haired teen, engaging Antonio into a conversation about cultural differences. Something nice, easy as the brunette certainly was on edge. The German's intuition would have none of it. The thought of these teens sitting around him irked him to no end and he stayed on high alert until the lunch bell finally rang, informing the mingling group that it was time for fifth hour.

As the blond moved to follow Antonio out to his next class his eyes glanced to the side as he witness a coy and devilish smile spread across Ivan's face.

* * *

In truth Matthew was a small boy that was hardly ever noticed, some of his teacher's even forgot that he was in their class. He was a shy freshman with zero friends, but that didn't matter since he didn't even want any. They would just get in the way of his studying and _other_ activities. Whenever this ghost of a teen was noticed, however, he was promptly teased. This wasn't something he could tell his all too enthusiastic brother about fore if he knew there would probably be a rage followed by flying fists. To Alfred, Matthew was the very ground he walked on.

The teen with the framed glasses wondered what his 'hero' brother would think of him if he ever found out his secret... that he was gay. Perhaps he wouldn't care. Alfred wasn't known for being prejudice but nonetheless this worried the dark blue eyed boy. He had a secret and he must keep it safe.

It was lunch time and he did well to stay invisible as he tried to scurry off, not wanting to be caught leaving the cafeteria even though he knew he shouldn't. He couldn't handle loud and crowded areas so he stuck to the school's hallways out in the open since no one noticed him anyway.

But today perhaps he wasn't so lucky... "Hey Mattie! Come join us today!" he heard his brother's voice yell at him. _Damn it, and so close too._ He looked over the table of teenage boys and stopped, eyes widening as he saw a certain French teen give him a sadistic smirk followed by an angry glare. He decided to scurry away instead of replying to Alfred's invite.

He was enjoying his lunch that consisted of a salad and a cup of lemonade; he wasn't a pig, unlike his older brother. In his own little world he did some light reading of a manga, one that he had found abandoned on the floor this morning. He actually quite enjoyed it and from what he knew this was a shounen, consisting of plenty of blood and characters that were helpless against some kind of giant humanoids. _Maybe Japanese comics aren't so childish after all._ he thought quietly.

Suddenly he could hear yelling from somewhere in the school and stopped and froze in his place not wanting to get involved. From the sounds of it he could hear the voices of all his brother's friends. _Is there a fight going on?_ he wondered which was instantly answered with grunting sounds responding to pain and kicks.

Matthew listened silently. _Coward._ he insulted himself.

Eventually the noises died down and he tried his best to resume reading his adopted manga. At one point he heard a kid walking down the hallway, spooking Matthew once more. But the kid didn't notice him. Of course he didn't. Who would?

Sure enough the kid past by him without a second thought. This was enough time for the timid teen to get a good look at the beaten student. And he was beaten. His face had slits were skin was torn, his face poorly cleaned of blood and face starting to swell. However, it was with the bushy eyebrows, the emerald eyes, his punk attire, and his stiff and angered stride that allowed Matthew to name him. Now, the younger blond didn't know the kid's name but he had seen him around. Since the day he saw a black eye on the British teen and a scowl that told everyone not to get close he knew that he was trouble, that people should be weary of him. It was obvious. That kid was going to explode one of these days and Matthew didn't want to be anywhere near him when that happens.

His eyes trailed as he witnessed the teen march down the hallway, not too sure as to where he was going.

Once finished with his lunch Matthew got up and dumped his garbage in a nearby trashcan and tried to finish the chapter he was on before the bell rung. Hearing the all too familiar sound of ringing he packed up his backpack and made his way over to fifth hour French. He had been taking this language since middle school and he was now eligible to transfer to Canada by sophomore year, a place where his cousins lived so he wouldn't be so lonely. Ever since he had visited that country when he was little he wanted to join the wildlife preserves and study polar bears.

He hummed to himself just enjoying the walk to his favorite class but first, a quick stop to his locker. He was at the end of a row of lockers and had the luck to be given a locker on top and no student owned the one that was beneath his. This only increased his invisibility powers. He chuckled at this thought.

"Something funny, mon amour*?" a cold French accent whispered up the nape of his neck and into his ear.

The teen jumped and turned around, covering the back of his neck, "F-Francis, w-what are you doing here? Don't you have fifth hour with my brother?" he asked, trying to drive the attention away from his flushed face he dove his head into his locker.

"Mon cher*, surely you do not think that I would leave such a cute thing as yourself alone after _that_ night. You haven't forgotten about that, non?" he questioned as he turned the shorter blond around and traced a finger around his chest in circles.

Of course _that_ night. How could he forget? It was his fault really for going to such a party and now this French teen wouldn't leave him alone. Worst yet, he couldn't fully reject him since he knew Alfred and he could tell him at any moment.

"Francis, I think you got the wrong idea about us. T-that was a party. Everyone was drunk, w-well except myself that is, but nothing that went on there should be taken out into the real world! I told you that it was for one night." he said quietly, failing to make his voice sound intimidating as light blue eyes came closer to the boy's rounded glasses, finger twirling in the bit of hair that stood out curled.

"Oui, I am well aware that it was a one night stand, but since that night I could not forget~. Oh your body was so soft and perfect~ I simply must have it again~!" he grabbed Matthew's chin and planted a big ol' kiss on the teen causing him to let out a squeak. The freshman didn't indulge in the kiss, sleeping with Francis was one of the worst mistakes of his life. He thought that the French teen would have forgotten him, the rest did.

He placed his palms on a strong chest and pushed the flamboyant teen away, "Mon agneau*, why do you reject me so? I can promise you that I am most certainly an efficient lover~! I come from France after all and you should know that makes me qualified in the field of romance!" he protested. Honestly this guy would not give up.

"W-we're in school!" he squeaked looking around to make sure that no one saw them. Then he remembered, _Crap that's right. He knows that no one notices me nor remembers me._

"You know, you are taking advantage of my caring nature," he began looking into dark blue eyes. "If I want you then I will have you. One way or another Matthew~!" he said as Matthew's eyes widened, pushing him away and slamming his locker shut he ran away, behind him he could hear the Frenchman call. "Oui I will have you mon amour. Very soon!"

_When will he just forget about me?_

* * *

It was on his way to sixth hour that Ludwig began to realize how much Francis and Alfred hated each other, though they covered it up with friendly sounding insults.

"Would you give it a rest man?" the blue eyed American called behind him looking to the blond French who was digging into his locker.

"Only if you will apologize for calling me Frog you stupid fat pig!" he yelled angrily.

The blond German had no idea what the hell was going on or how this all started.

"Oh look, I made Peppy le Pew upset. Hahaha!" Alfred gave a loud and obnoxious laugh after insulting the teen again, looking to Antonio and Ludwig down the row of lockers for approval. The Spaniard only groaned and the German let out a frustrated sigh, already feeling like he had known the two idiots his entire life though in truth it hadn't even been a full 24 hours.

"Damn you Alfred! Why can't you just disappear?" the Frenchie yelled.

Ludwig started to tune them out as he grabbed the rest of his stuff that was his homework, piling it into his backpack seeing as he would be going straight to football practice after PE, in fact, he wouldn't even have to leave the locker rooms.

Antonio motioned for him to follow as they left trying to be unnoticed by the fiery frenemies. They had successfully escaped the war zone and since they got into the locker rooms early Antonio showed him the football side of the locker rooms, "So when you get here man, you have to have a temporary locker away from the rest of us."

The German quirked an eyebrow.

"Well that's just the rule of the team, all newbies are segregated until they can prove themselves." Oh, well whether or not he cared he just shrugged, grabbing his bag for football and throwing it into a locker that Antonio gave him.

The last minute bell to class had rung and all of the students who had sixth hour PE swarmed in making the blond think that perhaps it would be a good time to dress out.

That day he had found out that every Wednesday was cardio day, but this was not a challenge to the well toned teen and he took the so called punishment with ease. When he was done with his mile he moved to begin walking but the coach of the class, and not to mention the football team, called to him, "Beilschmidt! Come here for a second!"

The Aryan race teen obeyed and jogged to the excessively buff man, "Yes sir?" he answered.

"You finished faster than expected, well done kid. Unfortunately it would be a waste of your time to just walk the rest of class. Could you go into the storage unit and get the equipment for football practice? Bring Fernandez with you. Oh and I'm glad you're on the team son." He gave a wide but crooked smile patting him on the shoulder.

All Ludwig did was nod a bit confusedly calling over the brunette to help him with his assignment, the Spaniard just finishing his mile then. They did their job and set out the equipment that consisted of helmets, jerseys, footballs, line of scrimmage, rope, tackle dummies, even some tractor tires and giant hammers. They didn't notice the class going inside and the coach sure as hell didn't alert them that class was almost over, the end of the day's bell ringing as they ran to go get dressed out and into their football uniforms.

As told from before Ludwig stayed at his temporary locker rather far away from his teammates, all of them jeering at him and calling him the newbie, he didn't care. His was in the middle of stripping when he saw a flash of brown in the corner of his eye. He looked up to see a small brunette staring at him. Just staring with a face that seemed so focused on him he couldn't help but feel his face heat up. Upon further inspection he noted that this was the same spazzy kid from this morning. The same kid that looked completely innocent and happy-go-lucky. _Why is he in here?_ he wondered.

The brunette apparently realized that he was staring at the German intently as his face turned pink, causing the German to have butterflies rise up in his stomach.

"Yo man what's up?!" he could hear Alfred headed his way to which the little teen sprinted away causing Ludwig to blink at the speed. _Was he in track or something?_ And not three seconds after he saw a blur of brown dash past him again, not stopping to look as he left the locker room.

Ludwig looked at Alfred with a confused look, "Aren't you supposed to be dressing out?" he asked as he noticed that the American was still in his street clothes.

"Yeah man, I just thought I'd dress out over here is all." he answered with a smile.

"Why?"

Alfred's face fell a little, only slightly, "Well you know," _No I don't know,_ "I know we're suppose to seclude you and all, but I don't think that's nice so I'm going to keep you company." Oh, so he was just looking out for him. Ludwig thought that he should change his opinion about the American. He wasn't a bad guy, and he wasn't necessarily and idiot either. He was just a playful guy that was also thoughtful but people must have been mistaking his energy filled demeanor for arrogance.

"Oh, I see. Thank you." he muttered and Alfred replied with a 'yup'. If he could say, the darker blond seemed to be a tad flustered.

* * *

_Oh jeez oh jeez. If I don't hurry I'm going to be late!_ Alfred was thinking to himself as he ran down the stairs and through the hallways of the emptying school. _Man if I don't hurry Coach is going to ream my ass._ he kept up a fast pace, he could see the locker room signs from down the hall as he tried to make a mad dash.

He was almost there until out of nowhere an object came flying into his path, the quarterback hitting it hard. He himself stood still but whatever it was that jumped out at him fell to the floor hard with a string of curses. It was a person.

"Oi watch where you're going you bloody wanker!" _Dude, was that a British accent?_ he wondered. He looked down to see a small blond in dark clothing rub his head. _Aw man, I didn't mean to hurt him._ he whined.

"Woah hey I'm sorry dude. I didn't see you there, but then again you popped out of nowhere. Hey are you all right?" Alfred said as he leaned over the teen. His reached his hand out to offer assistance and that was when he felt his heart leap on one beat. Emerald orbs stared up at him, the sheer color captivating the taller student and he stood there dumbfounded for a moment until his eyes adjusted and looked at the teen's face fully. "I don't think I hit you that hard did I? Your face looks awful, what happened?" he noted as he saw how broken the grouchy teen's face was.

The blond Brit's face was_ seriously_ torn up, black and blue and red decorated his pale complexion. Alfred worried and wondered as to what had happened.

The blond looked at the blue eyed teen's hand with disgust and got up himself, wobbling a bit. This made Alfred's face fall. He was just trying to help. "Keep your nose out of other peoples' business. Go play your dumb testosterone filled game, Alfred. You're known as the star aren't you? Stupid git." he muttered and cursed.

Alfred pricked his ear's at his name, "Huh? Wait you know my name? Awesome! I didn't know I was so popular! (he actually did). My full name's Alfred F. Jones if you want to know! Nice ta meet ya!" for some reason he was excited to be known by this mysterious and gloomy teen. "What's yours?"

"Piss off," he huffed as he walked away from Alfred who stood there looking like a kicked puppy. _Ouch, that wasn't very nice._ he thought as he turned to go in the locker room.

In all honesty he let himself play on autopilot, not giving two shits about the noise in the locker room. All he could think about was the teen he had met not two seconds before. And those eyes! They stripped Alfred's soul naked and lied him in front for the whole world to see. He had to admit that even the kid's big and bushy eyebrows were cute. _Oh no, what am I thinking?_ he shook his head _Damn it Alfred you're straight, straight! Don't start thinking that a guy with a horrible personality is cute... But he was kinda cute... Grr!_

He huffed indignantly and turned his head to see his new pal and teammate Ludwig dressing out for practice all on his lonesome. So they were laying him down with the seclusion trick, eh? Alfred hated that rule. It wasn't nice nor welcoming at all. He decided to grab his things and head over to the blond German, smiling.

"Yo man what's up?" he asked as he started getting his stuff together. He then went on to explain his being there and continued to smile though his brain was far up in space. Eventually the boys headed out of the locker rooms and onto the football field where they began warm ups before practicing the plays for the upcoming game.

For the entirety of the practice Alfred's mind was somewhere else, probably lost on cloud nine. He tried and tried to get his head in the game but with each pass he tried to make he'd get knocked off his ass due to a tackle.

"Damn it Jones! Get your head into the game! How the hell is our new fullback supposed to protect you if you're just standing there like an idiot?! He's doing his job, now why aren't you?!" Coach yelled, making his way across the field and grabbing the bars of Alfred's helmet to look him in the eye, analyzing. He gave a low chuckle, "Whatever girl it is that you're thinking of, stop hot shot. She's not interested." he smiled as he let go, the whole team letting out soft fits of laughter at their humiliated quarterback.

This was like cold water being poured onto Alfred's face. _Huh? Girl?_ he paused. _Damn it Alfred stop it!_ he mentally slapped himself as he realized that he was still thinking dreamily about the mysterious punk teen he had met.

The rest of practice presumed outstandingly, Ludwig finally being able to shine as he showed his true potential. Unfortunately for Alfred, Coach wasn't done lecturing him.

"I want you to jog before bed tonight, you hear me? And I'll know if you don't." he said with arms folded.

"Yes sir," Alfred mumbled as he made his way to the locker rooms to take a shower and get back in his street clothes for the evening. By the time he was stripped and heading for the showers most of the team was done and getting dried off. Personally Alfred didn't like shower time. He _hated_ being exposed. _Loathed_ it actually. He wasn't ashamed about his manhood though, actually it was quite the opposite. Except of course whenever he stood next to Ivan, the school's linebacker. That kid's junk would make anyone feel ashamed, losing all sense of pride and ego.

Anyone on the team would be lying if they said that they've never done a comparison check.

No, what he hated about taking a shower with the team was just the fact that he was uncomfortable being exposed to so many naked men. It just felt wrong, like his body should only be shown to those he was physically involved with. No matter, he'd just face the wall and ignore everyone.

"Oh hello Alfred. Where was your head today at practice?" a chill ran up his spine as he heard an icy Russian accent filter through his ear and he could feel a large hand make contact with his exposed bottom. He turned around in shock, wide eyed as he tried to see his teammate but with no such luck because he was blind as a bat without his glasses. He covered his ass and junk with his hands as he could hardly make out the grin on Ivan's face as he slowly walked away to the other side of the showers. _What in the holy name of Batman was that for?_

He shook his head and continued washing his body but he just couldn't shake off the feeling the he was being watched for the rest of that time. Eventually he made it to his locker next to Ludwig's, who had already disappeared with Antonio. Slipping on his shirt, his last article of clothing, his stomach gave a loud gurgle noise, informing the teen that he was hungry and would continue making dying whale noises until it was fed.

_Looks like Mattie is going to have to eat fast food again._ he grumbled as he picked up his backpack and went to the library in search of his brother.

As soon as he got to the dusty building his eyes zero ind on the outskirt tables, trying his best to find his blond brother with the invisibility powers. _Lucky bastard actually gets a super power._ Alfred thought momentarily before spotting said brother with his face nose deep in a disgustingly large book. From what he could tell it was French. He scrunched up his nose, _Gross._

He went over and ruffled his little brother's mass of blond hair, the boy spinning around in shock. "Hey Mattie!" he gleamed. Matthew's face looked of one with horror as Alfred looked down at his brother, catching a glimpse of a magazine being thrown into his backpack before the oldest even knew what is was about. The smaller teen blushed profusely as he looked up at his brother. Alfred disregarded this however knowing that Matthew didn't like him prying into his personal business. "So dude, I'm hungry. Let's go get a bite to eat." he said and the Canadian loving teen noticeably grimaced but he nodded ever so slightly and followed his brother off the school campus.

On their walk home they had stopped to get food at the nearest fast food joint, Alfred getting a fat and greasy burger with a shake and Matthew opting for a small box of curly fires and a lemonade. A usual day for the two brothers.

Not.

* * *

"Yo, Matt!" Alfred called from upstairs as he slipped on a grey workout sweater. His parents had already been home for a few hours now but they were heavy sleepers, currently looking dead on their bed as they floated off into dreamland so the American teen had no problems with shouting across the house.

"What?" he heard a softer voice yell from the living room.

"I'm going for a run before going to bed, see ya!" Alfred yelled as he jogged down the steps and went to the front door.

"Wait!" he heard his brother call as his hand rested on the door knob. "Take Eagle with you!" Alfred loudly groaned and upon hearing his name a large German shepherd came hurdling down the stairs, looking at Alfred panting with a happy smile and seeing the teen in his running attire ran to go get his leash.

"Matthew you son of a bitch! Now I _have_ to take him!" he yelled and groaned again when he heard a faint chuckle coming from where his brother was at.

"You should have taken him for a walk earlier if you didn't want to run with him!" the younger sibling said as he turned back to his book to drown out the older's whines.

"That was supposed to be YOUR job today!" he yelled but heard no response after.

The last thing he wanted to do was take a loud dog that never stopped barking at everything and peeing on everything out for a walk. Nevertheless the dog came running to his favorite owner, leash dragging from his mouth onto the floor. Alfred bent down to click the dog's leash on muttering a 'whatever'.

For the beginning of October the air was rather chilly and the blond thought that it was going to be a dreadful winter as he jogged down the barren roads, no light emitted before him except for the crescent moon shining his way as there were no streetlights along the road he was on. Through the thicket of the forest though he could see the lights still on in some houses that had not turned in for the night yet.

He rather enjoyed jogging late at night even though he knew he'd have to take a shower instantly if he wanted any ounce of sleep. Something about these runs, assigned by the coach or not, made him feel at ease. It allowed him to drown out all of the world's nonsense and allowed him to be him. Alfred Jones.

He smiled down at his dog that was surprisingly well behaved tonight, keeping up with the blond's fast pace. The dog panted and for some reason did not turn to mark his territory or bark at a passing animal, as if he had a set goal. Everything was going swell until his dog stopped instantly. Alfred was yanked backward by the leash and he almost tripped and fell, the dog being much like his owner and was as sturdy as a boulder.

Alfred grunted as he turned around to see that his dog was staring straight at something with a strange intensity. "Eagle? What's wrong boy?" the blond asked as he approached the dog. The dog backed up instantly, still not looking at his owner and barked ferociously, a lone whimper escaping his throat. "Hey hey what's the matter with you?"

Alfred panicked hoping that his dog wasn't waking any of the neighbors. He leaped forward, grabbing the dog's muzzle and shushing him. The dog tried to desperately get out of his grip, whining and trying to move forward towards whatever he was staring at.

"Oh come on now Eagle. What's got your panties in a-" that was when Alfred turned around to see what the dog was going crazy about and he stopped mid sentence when he saw a person far down the road walking along side it.

"Seriously man? You're barking over that?" he groaned, "Just leave the guy be." Alfred couldn't make out the person due to the fact that he was so far away and it was dark. The blond let out a huff of breath and decided to walk until they passed the stranger, that way he could have a little more control of his rowdy dog.

Alfred looked puzzled at the silhouette though, the body shape seeming eerily familiar. The dog walked along side him quietly but was still trying to push forward and it took all the teen's strength to hold him back.

Halfway from where he saw the man he stopped, as he realized that this stranger wasn't an adult. Alfred could see a head of light blond hair flowing in the chilled air, the body looked rather scrawny as it was enveloped in a baggy grey, long sleeved t-shirt and pajama pants, the shoes sticking out and completely mismatching the outfit. Blue eyes followed as he saw the boy throw something off into the distance.

It was strange, how he just stood there watching this person move, not having a clue that he was being watched. Alfred's face heated up at this little realization that he was inappropriately staring taking a few steps to continue only to stop again when the body moved. Skinny legs lifted up and went over the guard rails that protected vehicles from going off the cliff. _Wait. Cliff?! _

Alfred froze feeling that one wrong move would scare the teen and cause him to fall off. _What the hell is he doing? That's dangerous!_ but his legs were still, eyes still watching and wondering as to what this boy was planning to do.

The small frame was leaning back and forth as if contemplating which way he would fall, his hands gripping onto the rail behind him. Then everything was in slow motion. Alfred could see from so far away like a hawk, eyesight he never knew he had, as pale fingers slowly let go of the cold metal. Feet that wore large shoes slid and Alfred thought that he could hear the gravel roll beneath the rubber. The feet moved forward and the blond released himself from the safety of the rails.

The American teen forgot all that happened in those few seconds and when he opened his eyes that were tightly shut he was looking into emerald orbs. His blue eyes widened as did the green ones.

"Eh?" he questioned looking down. He was hanging off the guard rail, his eyes zeroing in on the cliff he was standing right above, he couldn't even see the bottom the night was so dark, "Eh?" he said again as he noticed his hands were the only thing keeping the green eyes from plummeting to their death, holding the body up by the armpits from behind. "Woah!" he screamed but did not dare to back away, holding onto the boy with thick waves of adrenaline coursing through his body. _H-how did I get here? I don't remember anything._ he thought.

Arthur stared wide eyed. _What the hell? Where'd he come from? Wait. I'm not falling. I'm still alive?_ If this was hell then he made a poor choice."What the bloody hell are you doing?! Let me go you daft bastard!" he heard an angry British voice call him back to his senses and he stared down.

_Wait. Don't I know this kid?_ "S-sorry let me help you u-"

"No! Let me go this instant! You stupid git!" he yelled again. Arthur tried to move himself up back onto the ledge but the way his body was positioned it was hard. He squirmed in Alfred's strong grip. _Oh, it's that asshole from the hallway._ Alfred comprehended. He shrugged, breathing out and calming his nerves as he lifted the teen up and over the guard rails and to the safe road. _Man, he's light. And loud._

Arthur was on his hands a knees on the ground once he was put down. He couldn't believe it. He was so close. So close to leaving this world. He groaned inwardly, tears starting to clog his vision. He was scared, his natural senses of survival kicking into full gear. Of course after contemplating death so many times it was obvious that his body would have a delayed reaction to anything dangerous. The adrenaline of free falling even for that short second was still ushered into his veins, heart pounding. He was shaking, his breath heavy as he panted. Worst of all, someone had caught him.

_Lick._ Arthur felt a wet tongue slide across his cheek.

_The fuck?_ he looked and saw a giant wet nose in his face and he fell back against the pavement. "The bloody hell?!" he shrieked trying to back away from the giant dog that was advancing his way.

"Eagle down!" he heard a voice call and looked up to see focused blue eyes and a pale frown as the teen grabbed the monster's leash and backed away a tad.

Arthur's thick eyebrows furrowed, "You! T-that wanker from the hallway! Alfred!" he pointed accusingly at the football player.

Alfred's eyes snapped back at the teen, "What the hell do you think you were doing?" he nearly busted his vocal chords and the Brit paused in his rage seeing the 'hero' uncharacteristically shout, capturing his full attention. "You could have died!" he stated frantically.

_Way to figure that one out genius,_ he thought as he leaned back on the road, hands behind his head. "Yeah I know that." he mumbled.

Alfred was about to ask him as to why he was there then if he knew the dangers until he paused. The image of fingertips letting go of a rail willingly passed by his eyes, and quite frankly, he was shocked. "W-wait, so were you trying to get yourself killed?" he wondered out loud.

_Did you just turn on the light bulb?_ Arthur side glanced at the teen moving to get up, "That's none of your concern." he muttered as he moved to walk back to his dreadful house, the feeling of dying leaving his mood.

"Wait a minute! You expect me to just let you walk away after a scene like that?" Alfred called after.

"Yup." he responded curtly his form getting farther away.

Alfred frowned at this notion and he looked down, "Eagle," he said and his dog looked up with a happy grin, "Tackle." he commanded letting go of his dog's leash, the dog bounded away after the suicidal teen, jumping high into the air and onto his back, tackling him back down to the road.

Arthur was hit hard and he turned onto his back, his face then was being attack by a wet tongue all over his face, even his eyes, "The fuck? Get your mangy dog off of me you asshole!" he yelled as he tried to shove the dog off.

"Careful now, if you try to leave again without my consent I might as well tell him he fumbled." he stood over the Brit smiling and the dog began to growl as he heard the phrase.

"All right all right already! What the hell do you tossers want?!" he questioned wondering what kind of code word the teen was spewing out. _Bloody Americans._

"I think," he crossed his arms, "That after that escapade and saving your ass, thus being the hero of course, that I deserve a few things in return." he nodded defiantly. Trying not to let an amused grin slip as he watched his dog continue to lick the boy but failed.

"You can kiss my arse! Don't heroes never ask for anything in return?!" he spat. Meanwhile Alfred wasn't listening. He was thinking as to what he would ask of the blond. Well certainly this kid was a mystery and he_ was_ intrigued. Not to mention that this suicidal kid needed help. _Hmm..._ he looked at the kid's beaten face for a long time making the Brit uncomfortable.

"You still didn't tell me what happened to your face, or your name for that matter." he said randomly.

"None of those are your concern!" he yelled still struggling with the heavy dog that was now attempting to sit on him.

"I can't even know your name?' he questioned dubiously.

"Fine, I'm Harry Fucking Potter." he seethed sarcastically.

Alfred however did not find this funny, "Eagle, did you fumble?" he asked the dog. Eagle began to growl and bit down on the Brit's shirt collar, happy demeanor nearly erased as the dog thought of the insult.

"Okay, okay! It's Arthur!" he whined frantically.

"Nice ta meet ya Arthur," blue eyes smiled. He lent down his hand to offer the green eyed punk his hand, Arthur begrudgingly taking it as he was lifted up and away from the dog. Arthur continued to frown which dampened the teen's spirit.

"Can I go now?" he questioned and the teen was so lost in his thoughts as he stared deeply into emerald eyes that he had to shake his head to come back down to earth.

"U-uh yeah sure!" he said smiling, "But I'll see you at school you got that?" he said silently wishing that he was sort of making a promise with the Brit.

"If you're lucky," he snapped and he turned to walk away, "Oh and Alfred?" he questioned.

The quarterback stared up, "Yeah?"

"T-thanks." he whispered and then sauntered off into the night.

_Thanks? For what? Didn't he just get done yelling at me for not letting him die?_

Alfred smiled as he stared into the darkness, biting his bottom lip.

_Arthur._

* * *

a/n: Oh my so many ways I could go with this. And to anyone who panicked about the cliffhanger- see I'm not so mean that I would kill a character... Oh am I? Plenty of new developments that will expand later on. We have our dearest Matthew even sharing bits of his life... with Francis? Who knows. And Ivan hitting some American ass? Either that's just to show how creepy he is or something else, you'll have to think about that for yourselves.

I know, it's ridiculous that it's still on day one but I will be moving this fic along now, I simply wanted to have everyone understand their daily lives AND introduce the characters to each other.

Oh yeah and for those of you who can't speak French and don't want to take the time to look up the words:

Mon amour- my love

Mon cher- my dear

Mon agneau- my lamb ;)

Shout out to some reviewers:

_ .143- _I'm glad you enjoy reading this so much and I hope to not disappoint you. Your kind words have been settling, I hope you continue to read this story.

_vellymymare-_ Glad to know that my plan had been carried out successfully. If later on you decide to be mad at me for what I may do to the characters then I give you full permission to hate me. XD

Man do I have a serious case of Squirrel Syndrome.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter, and seeing as I'll be back in my own home by Sunday I'll probably be better at updating. Thank you for reading and please review! ^.^


	5. Chapter 4 Recognition

Hey everyone~! I'm really sorry for this late update, please don't hate me . . I would have posted sooner if my twin hadn't decided that his drawings that he does on my computer is so much more important than updating my fics. -_-

So this chapter is a filler and I am, yet again, sorry. I tried my best to make it entertaining so I hope you all like it. More exciting stuff is planned for the next chapter so hopefully this does not deter your interest in this fic. I am still asking for more reviews, I love hearing from you guys. Please feel free to give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism on what things that could be worked on or what things you would like to see happen in terms of development or how the characters interact. I will take these requests into consideration.

Also, I know that I curse quite a bit in these chapters. It's your choice whether or not to read it so I'm not apologizing for that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. They belong to their amazing creator.

Characters: Arthur (England), Feliciano (Italy), Tim Govert (Netherlands), Alfred (America), Matthew (Canada), Ludwig (Germany), Antonio (Spain), Francis Bonnefoy (France), Simon Densen (Denmark), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), Ivan Broginski (Russia), Im Yong Soo (South Korea), Kiku Honda (Japan), and Heracles Karpusi (Greece).

I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please continue to review!

* * *

Chapter 4: Recognition

_He feels the breeze still on his face, but now he is not standing on both feet nor is he free falling. He can see the stars shine brightly in the night sky above him, each looking like a bright and shimmering teardrop. He can feel the earth beneath him, sticks and rocks poking painfully into his skin, but he does not feel it. He feels nothing but the breeze. That's the only thing he had ever wanted to feel in this drastic decision, and it was thankfully granted. Though his body lied still, his eyes cast over with grey, the boy himself could still see the world around him, that was, until his mind finally casted his tired soul to rest, permitting the darkness to wash over and provide endless dreams to follow him._

The teen still had these dreams.

It had been a little over a week since that night. The night the blond had planned to die but completely failed. _If it wasn't for that damn Alfred I'd be at peace by now._ He would grumble to himself. If he hadn't loathed and envied the star teen already then he did now. Ten fold.

Speaking of that blond, arrogant, prick, Arthur had somehow managed to avoid him altogether. The day after the incident he could see from the shadows that the oh-so-famous quarterback was looking for him. It was just too obvious. His big blue eyes were always on alert, skimming through the many faces that walked the school's hallways, yet he was still too blind to see the Brit walk directly past him. What a clueless moron.

And what? Did the kid think that they would become the best of buds after that? Yeah right. Oh, but his hero deserved at least that~! Blech. This was all some plot to get a good laugh at Arthur. Alfred may not have been the kind of guy that would outright bully someone, but Arthur never doubted that he had the capability to. And now that damned football player knew how broken he was.

The blond teen simply let out a sharp huff of air, placing his pockets within baggy black pants that were decorated with various zippers, pins, and chains. Even if the pants were baggy they actually made him look smaller rather than bigger. Damn his physique. He trudged his way through dried pine needles as he made his way to school that morning.

While Arthur was just on his way to school, Feliciano was starting to be late for his. His artistic breakfast had taken much more time than he had anticipated. He was making a mess of his mess as he scrambled to at least place his dishes in the sink. He then began to diligently rub the crusted food off of the counters when his guardian Tim walked in groggily, his hair mused and a large red lipstick stain planted all over his face.

"G'morning Feli~" he cooed as he tiredly rested his head on the counter.

"U-umm good morning Tim! If you want breakfast I have some left overs for you!" he stuttered as his words came out in a gush.

"Mmm thanks man," he mumbled as he trailed off on the edge of dreamland until his eyes shot fully awake, his body standing erect in the blink of an eye, "Oh right! You cook! Feli I need you to do something for me!" he said all excited now.

"What?" he rushed, if he didn't leave now then he would be late and then he'd have to get tired Tim to drive him.

"Okay, my _parents_," he said the word with exasperation, "probably have already told you this but my great grandma is coming over next week and she's like SUPER Dutch. She was the first woman in our family line to settle us in American. I want to make her a good Pennsylvania Dutch breakfast and I looked at our school's library selection online and they have a book of Dutch recipes with a particular recipe I'm looking for." he breathed in a lung full of air as he started to finish his rambling, "Could you perhaps get the book for me and teach me the recipe today?" he asked with pleading green eyes that reminded the Italian of his closest friend so he just couldn't say no.

"Ve~ Of course I'll get the book Tim! I would love to learn a new dish!" he said smiling brightly as he grabbed his backpack.

"Oh thank god! You're a lifesaver man!" he exclaimed before passing out on the now clean counter.

Feliciano nodded and headed out the door, running full speed ahead to the bus hoping that he did not miss it. Looks like he would have to make a stop during lunch to the library. Sure it would seem that Tim could man up and get the recipe book himself but it wasn't the case over pride. The Dutch boy was permanently banned from the library for looking up porn on the computers once and making a mess when he and his friends tried to roughhouse.

Tim wasn't a good role model.

Thankfully Feliciano barely caught the yellow school bus and he hopped on, easily dodging a foot in his path now that he had a kick in his step. He was glad that Tim was trying to bond with him and it was nice to hear that the teen was doing something nice for a family member. Maybe he and his great grandmother had a special bond?

As per routine the pair of friends met up in their 'secret hideout' conversing like always while a certain all American teen was roaming about the halls without his usual groupies trailing him. How he had manage to escape was beyond his comprehension. Wide blue eyes roamed the hallways of the school, a few passers-by nodded his way and he instinctively flashed his trademark grin.

_Damn it. I save that guy's life and this is the thanks I get? I haven't been able to spot him anywhere... Well, you know, it's not like he actually wanted to be saved... Shut up..._ he grumbled to himself. That Brit was something mysterious and Alfred could suppose that that was why he was so drawn to him. Another side of him told him that he needed to help the broken teen. _What pushed him so far off the edge that he was actually willing to jump off one?_ All the quarterback wanted at this point was to help the poor kid, let him know that he was not alone and that he could have the awesome Alfred as his friend. _I mean, who wouldn't want to have a friend or two?.._

"Oi, Alfred! Where the hell are you heading off to? School's about to start!" Alfred turned to see his friend Antonio and new friend Ludwig standing next to each other down the hall throwing odd looks at him.

"O-oh. Hey guys! What's up?" he ran over to them, giving Antonio a high five and a great big smile for Ludwig, he still didn't seem to be the touchy feely type of guy.

"Just got here and went looking for you when your groupies couldn't find you. What were you doing?" the brunette inquired.

"Oh you know. Just going for a walk around the school, wanted to get away from the crowd for awhile." he feigned sincerity.

"Riiight, anyways, at lunch we need to go to the library to get Ludwig some science books he didn't get last week. You coming?" he said, still trying to figure Alfred out.

"Ugh, you know I hate the library! But whatever, that sounds better than staying at the table with Frog and the rest of them. Honestly that guy has a death wish on me or something!" now Alfred was usually oblivious to some of his 'friends' hatred for him but with Francis... It was painstakingly obvious that the Frenchman hated his American guts.

"Who wouldn't?" Antonio teased and began to walk away from the blond.

"Hey that wasn't nice! He called after and followed the two down the hallway. To the blond it seemed it would just be an average day. Unfortunately not.

He had spent his whole morning still wrapped up in that Arthur kid. What made him so special? All Alfred cared about was if the kid was even still alive and if he was then why hadn't he showed up? And what if Alfred found him? What would he say, what would he do? First thing that came to mind was to become the kid's friend and help him. Then again his mind always reeled in the back and questioned whether or not he should take this suicide matter to the counselors. Alfred was in fact a peer counselor but he had not come across such a dark topic before. He didn't know what to do.

While the blond was supposed to be taking down notes he was instead doodling, not knowing how to come down to earth with his brain so preoccupied with the dark teen. Alfred was always a happy and sunshine kind of kid and while he had his own insecurities (mainly about what people truly thought about him) he always managed to put on a smile and it was a foreign world, this depression. _How could someone get like that?_

Even in Forensics the teen continued to stare off into space, earning an erase board marker to the head by Ms. C. This was definitely not a normal week, and he HAD to get himself back to earth because he had one of the most important football games coming up: homecoming.

"Hey dreamboat," there was a smack on his head by a well known Spaniard, "You coming with us or what? We still have to stop by some vending machines for some form of lunch so get your butt moving," Antonio said then promptly turned to head out the door of the classroom to a waiting German.

Alfred rushed after them, shaking his head to complete consciousness. As planned prior to this morning they headed down the halls and to the library. On the way they each grabbed some food from the machines that lined the hallway as you got close to the library. Antonio buying a few bags of spicy chips, Ludwig some pretzels, and Alfred opted for a candy bar. Figures.

They each had to finish their snacks before entering into the much too large library but that was a given. Antonio and Ludwig had to stand for a few moments before entering to finish while Alfred was waiting impatiently as he had inhaled his chocolate bar as soon as it entered his clutches.

Opening the large glass doors the Spaniard pointed the German towards the book rental section for his needed books, telling Alfred to go entertain himself somewhere while they were busy, "Hey dudes! That's not fair!" he yelled after their retreating figures and the brunette only waved back.

"We have the whole lunch period to explore, go find a comic book or something," he had said as he walked away.

The blond only huffed and began to meander through the wide range of books. _Comic books? Gimme a break, this is the SCHOOL library. Like hell they'd actually have anything fun to read._ Alfred really had no idea where his legs were taking him, he only knew that he hated being in a large room full of words that mocked him. Just because he wasn't all that smart didn't mean that thick binds of paper had the right to laugh at him with their insults written in taunting black ink letters. _Damn books._

He was a football star, what did he need knowledge for? _Well you are going to join the Air Force dumbass. Shut up._ he insulted himself. Of all his insecurities that was the one he hated the most. The blue eyed teen looked around the section that had brown tables all around, some round and off into the corners and giant rectangled ones all clustered in the middle of the great room. His little brother Matthew was known for hiding in the very back at a round table while Alfred was off at practice.

With his eyes skimming he could see Antonio in the magazine section, the swimsuit magazine section. It amazed him that while the school didn't carry comic books that he all so loved (because he could relate to the heroes' weaknesses) the school still carried magazines that showed way too much exposure in his mind. He had half a mind to go over there and join him.

He couldn't spot the blond hair of Ludwig but his eyes stopped immediately on a head of someone's blond mop. The teen took in the sight of night black clothing and a small frame standing at a bookshelf bar. _Arthur._

The American boy began in great strides towards the punk teen, stopping short to debate his actions but then continued forth as he slid in next to him, casually pulling out a novel at random.

Thick eyebrows furrowed as spiteful green eyes landed on the darker blond, "Can I help you?" he said in an angry tone.

"Oh! Hey Arthur! Almost didn't see you there! How are you?!" he yelled, earning a few _shushes_ from the bookworm kids. Upon seeing the Brit's face Alfred genuinely smiled to see that the boy's massive facial reconstruction had settled down immensely, though it seemed that a few marks were now freshly added. It had shocked Alfred momentarily to see that this sour face was actually quite handsome when it wasn't all contorted with bruises and swelling. He also took notice that Arthur was sporting a few piercings. Two studs that dotted the top flesh of his nose in between the eyes and a black lip piercing that made his full pink lips stand out even more. He wore the punk look well.

"Fuck off." was all the Brit had responded with, turning back to his book that Alfred grew increasingly interested in.

"So watcha reading?" he said leaning over, catching a glimpse of music notes before Arthur hastily slammed it shut and placed it back on the shelf in front of him.

"None of your business. You can leave now." he all but hissed.

"So this is where you run off to to hide? Funny, I've never seen you in here before." he commented, still smiling and ignoring the request to leave.

"That's none of a wanker's business." he said curtly.

"Hey now. I was just trying to be nice," Alfred began, feeling a strange heated feeling in his chest and face. Anger? "Look I've been looking everywhere try'na find you because I thought that you went off and tried to d-"

A small but firm hand clasped over his mouth, Arthur's eyebrow twitched as he glared daggers into blue eyes, "Listen here, Mr. Hero. If you had left me as I was then you wouldn't feel so burdened to check up on me. I said thank you so that means that I don't have to deal with you anymore. You got that?" he released him, "Stupid git."

"Is that so?" Alfred countered, accidentally letting a hint of playfulness escape into his voice. He internally shook his head to gather himself, putting an uncharacteristically serious face on, "You know, Arthur," the Brit felt chills at how coldly his name was said, "You may not know this but I am a Peer Counselor," _Huh?_ "and when I encounter a suicide attempt or symptom I am to immediately report it to the counselors. I'm trying to help you avoid all of that." _What am I trying to accomplish here?_ "So you either open up to me, or I alert this to the adults." he said all of this whilst questioning himself but also let that threat hang heavy in the air. _Arthur wouldn't want adults to get involved. That's too obvious. He wouldn't dare, would he?_ the quarterback could hear his own heavy heart beat within his chest cavity.

"You wouldn't." he whispered.

"Try me." dead pan.

"Bollocks..." he trailed off and then cleared his throat, "Then what do you want from me?" he inquired rightfully so.

"..." Alfred stumped at the thought of what it was he wanted to say, "Umm... Oh. How about letting me be your friend?" he said more confidently at the end.

Arthur let out a short and harsh laugh and turned away, walking further into the library, "Thanks, but no thanks. I rather handle lying to the adults then spend one more minute with the likes of you." he insulted.

Alfred only stood there, mouth slightly agape. He got shut down? How? _And ouch. That hurt._ Wounded by a teen he hardly knew he thought, _How?_

* * *

Feliciano had somehow managed to drag Arthur out of their little bathroom den to accompany him to the library in search of Tim's requested book, but not before the Brit could reply with a few spouts of insults, "Why the bloody hell do we have to go and get that twat's book? It's his damn fault for causing so much trouble!" Arthur whined as the Italian brunette dragged the punk teen by the wrist.

"Ve~ I know Arthur, but this is really important to him! You don't even have to follow me all around." he said trying to pacify the blond's irritation but to no avail.

"Still don't see why WE have to do it." he grumbled.

"Ve ve~ but Arthur... They have a music section~!" he said in hopes that that would get him to follow.

"Oh?" it worked. "Fine, then I don't see why not." he said stomping forward and passed the smiling brunette.

Feliciano might not have been that bright on how to manipulate most people but he at least knew how to get Arthur to do a few things with little to no complaints. He hummed happily as they entered into the room of books, releasing Arthur and telling him that he would only be a moment before he walked towards the recipe book section of the library and the Brit to the music section.

The brunette Italian went to a book checkup computer, seeing if the school actually had the book on hand and after finding it's serial number he went to retrieve the desired book.

Feliciano frowned disappointingly. He looked down to the paper to inspect the fold of paper he had in his hand and back up to the book, the exact book that he needed to get. It was so close yet so far. On the very top shelf.

Very well. Challenge excepted.

He raised his small body onto the tip of his toes, hand raised above his head, and his tongue slowly peeking out from between his lips. Feliciano let out a low whine as his goal was still far away. That was, until a large hand with long and pale fingers moved above his own, pointer finger touching the top binding of the very book that the Italian was trying to reach, sliding it out and holding it in a massive paw.

The Italian teen was frozen in his outstretched position as the book went over his head and to the body that loomed behind him. Then he realized, "Ve~ I needed that book first." he said with a slightly irritated voice as he turned around only to have the color in his face drain. A tall and muscular blond teen stood before him, blue eyes skimming through the cookbook already. This wasn't just some intimidating blond, it was the same blond Feliciano was caught gawking at in the locker room.

"Ve~ I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I didn't mean to yell! I'm so sorry!" the brunette began to panic, praying to all the gods he knew that this teen wouldn't hurt him for talking out of turn. "You can have the book! I don't need it!"

At this the German teen finally looked up, closing the book, "Don't need it?" he gave a nod, "If you didn't need it then why were you trying so hard to get it?" he handed Feliciano the Pennsylvania Dutch cookbook, who took it with great hesitation.

"Why?" he muttered then shut his mouth with an audible _snap_. He had meant to think that.

The German gave him a questionable look, "Why what? That I brought the book down for you? You looked like you needed help, so I helped."

"You don't want to hurt me?" again he blurted out his thoughts.

"What?" Feliciano could hear a thicker German accent began to enter into the looming teen's speech. "Why would I want to hurt you?"

"Ve~ n-nevermind!" he spoke sporadically, "T-thank you for the help!"

He nodded, "So what. Are you a chef or something?" Ludwig felt awkward for some reason. He didn't know why but he wanted to talk to this little Italian more. He was afraid of being hurt, that was evident but what for?

"Ve~ I like to cook! But this book isn't for me! It's for my transfer guardian, he wants to make Pennsylvania Dutch pancakes for a Dutch family member and he can't get the book himself!" he said enthusiastically.

"Pennsylvania Dutch? You know, most of those type of settlers are from Germany," he saw the teen's face fall and panicked for some reason, "But the Dutch and Germans are quite similar so their not so different!" the brunette smiled and the blond relaxed. "A-anyways, what's your name?" he asked feeling somehow flustered under the friendly gaze of the smaller teen, his cheeks tinted pink.

"Ve~ I am Feliciano! Feliciano Vargas! And you?" he said eagerly.

"U-umm I'm Ludwig." he said awkwardly.

"'Ve~ Are you a transfer student like me?"

"Yeah, I'm from Germany." Now he actually wanted to walk away. He was never good at small talk.

"Cool! I am from Italy!" he smiled and their conversation grew heavy with an awkward aura.

"That's nice." he scratched the back of his head trying to rack his brain for something to say. "Are you going to the homecoming game?" he spoke randomly. Maybe if he mentioned it he could bid him farewell.

"Eh? Game? What game?" _Does he seriously not know?_

"The football game.. You know that it's tomorrow right? You are going to a school that's obsessed with football." he deadpanned wondering how clueless this kid could get.

"Oh! Ve~ I've never gone to a game!"

"What? Not even one? Why not?" he said incredulously.

"Ve~ My friend Arthur and I are too scared." the Italian said, slightly shrinking where he stood.

Ludwig's blond brow raised in question but when he realized that he was not going to receive anymore information than that he decided to go for a different approach, "Well how about you take you and your friend Arthur to the game tomorrow. You don't know, it might be fun. It's going to be the first big game I've been in since transferring and I don't have friends to invite. Would you come?" the German almost pleaded. Why did he want this stranger to see him play so badly?

"Ve~ I'll try!" he smiled.

Ludwig gave a thin smile back, "Thank you. See you tomorrow then. Nice talking to you Feliciano." he shivered at the sound of his name spoken in a German accent and he thought this odd before waving the blond goodbye, book in hand.

* * *

"Ve~ Tim I'm home!" a certain auburn brown, Italian teen walked through the doors of his temporary home calling out to his guardian. When he didn't hear a reply he tried again, "Ve~ I know you're home!," he yelled up the stairs, "You're car is in the driveway!" he added before setting down his backpack at the kitchen counter, pulling out the library recipe book that he had checked out and began flipping through the pages for the recipe the Dutch boy had mentioned.

He found it easily but was confused about the odd shape the pancakes were shown in. _These are pancakes? Aren't they supposed to be round and not with all that crust?_ he shook his head and began pulling out all the needed ingredients: eggs, flour, milk, and butter. A simple dish it seemed.

He heard the pounding of feet on the staircase, he looked up to see the blond walking down towards the kitchen angrily, a brunette girl following behind but then turned to the front door to leave, her hand covering her face.

"Damn it Feli, you're a real CB, you know that?" he said grumpily as he walked into the kitchen, his hair mused much like the girl who had just walked out of the house. "What the hell do you want?"

"Ve~ I got the book you wanted!" the Italian said happily, unfazed but the feigned anger being projected by the blond teen. "I thought we could learn it together before you make it for your great grandma."

"Oh," he said looking like he felt touched, "Thanks man, sure that would be awesome." he padded quickly into the laundry room that joined the kitchen area, slipping on a grey t-shirt.

They shared a few words after that but quickly went to work, enthusiastically pointing at the book and laughing at how simple the recipe really was. It was the first time the two ever shared a moment and bonded, much like they should had three years ago when the Italian had moved in. Once they pulled out their final product they sat around the island staring at what they thought were misshapen pancakes. Shrugging they tried it anyways and the buttery and eggy pancake melted in their mouths, noses filled with a heavenly aroma. Each took their time savory the simple dish and stopped when they ate the crust.

Both stared wide eyed at each other, "This tastes likes marshmallows," the blond complimented at this new and delicious discovery.

The brunette only nodded.

* * *

The day had finished with little incidence, the palm of the blond's hand had been scraped when he was tripped but that was all and he was grateful. It gave him another day to think that his life was worth living. He huffed out a breath as he brought the strap of his backpack over his shoulder some more. He was walking back home from school, walking up to the mailbox and opening it. There was one letter inside. It was addressed to him. The sender was from a prison not too far but out of city limits.

His dad.

The Brit let a ghost of a smile creep onto his lips. It had been so long since the man had wrote to his son and the boy grew worried for his father. Arthur had never replied to a single one of his father's letters, not even when he was a kid, but he enjoyed reading them. His father didn't just write about his life behind bars waiting for death to come or spend the time begging for his blond son to reply back. He instead wrote life lessons for Arthur, words that the man would have said if he were there to raise the blond boy. Crimes that he regretted, boiling blood that he wished he knew how to cool.

He tucked the letter safe in his backpack, taking note of the two cars now parked in the driveway. His mom was home and someone else along with her. He trudged up the steps of the dreaded household, filling his lungs with oxygen before opening the creaking door. He stepped in slowly, one step in and tried a second before feeling his hair being pulled by a vice grip, yanking his small frame into the house fully.

"Why hello Arthur! Good to see the little shithead got back from school safely," a thick voice gave a cackle as Arthur tried to release himself of the grip around his head, "Did you have a good day you little bastard?" he hacked up another chortle, throwing the blond unto the floor. He gave a kick for good measure.

"That was uncalled for..." Arthur coughed, arms folded over his pained stomach.

"Uncalled fo-"

"Hey! Leave the shit alone, we have to go now, he's not worth wasted breath!" the blond woman that was Arthur's mother stomped down the stairs, purse and keys in hand as she moved towards the door, she glared hatefully at her own son, "Pathetic," she spat, "How did I ever end up raising such a pitiful child?" she questioned out loud before turning and grabbing the boy toy she had had the week before. They apparently enjoyed each other's sadistic nature towards Arthur and had been together since.

The door shut with a hollow slam and Arthur remained on the floor slumped, trying to keep stinging tears from spilling over his eyelids. After gathering himself for a few minutes he rose from his place on the wooden floor, grabbing his backpack and heading to the kitchen to fill his arms with all the needed food and beverages he would need for the rest of the night to ensure that he didn't have to travel downstairs to the war zone more than what would be needed. With a small amount of food and a soda held in his arms, he headed up the stairs to his bedroom to lock himself away from the outside world. To his safe haven.

Entering into the darkened room, dark mainly because of the black painted walls and the thick black curtains hanging from his window, he spread out the food and soda onto his normally unused desk. He dug his hand into the depths of his backpack, pulling out the letter from his father and fell onto his bed. Arthur held up the letter high above his head. Half of him staring at the address, the other half staring at the ceiling behind it.

He let out a drawn out, weary sigh flipping onto his stomach and eventually mustered up the courage to open it. He folded it out carefully, taking note that it must have been the shortest letter the man had ever sent. The blond wondered why.

Scrawled out in poorly written letters on the yellow stained paper the boy read:

_To my beloved son Arthur,_

_How are you? Are you doing all right? Going to school like a good, young lad? I might never know the answers to my questions. You've never replied._

_Do you despise me? Resent me for never being there like a father should? I wish I could crawl on my hands and knees to beg for forgiveness, but alas, I cannot._

_I often wonder if you ever received my letters or if your intentionally ignore them. But it is your choice of course._

_How's that mother of yours? I hope she's not too horrid. She never was one to cuddle and be sweet, so you're brothers have told me._

_Anyways, my dear boy, I fear that this is my last and final letter to you. I can only hope that you read this letter before I am gone from this earth. My death date is quickly approaching and will be this Saturday of the week I send this letter. I was given the opportunity to invite three close friends or relatives for this spectacular occasion so I took the liberty of inviting your three older brothers. I couldn't think of asking you to watch me be given the lethal injection. I don't want you to carry that last image of me with you for the rest of your life._

_All I ask from you now is that you reply to this one letter, or to any letter that I have sent you over the years. The last lesson I will teach is the importance of words. Putting thought to pen and pen to paper is the most important thing in this world, Arthur. It allows you to say all it is that you need to say. Allow for errors to occur because life is not perfect. If I had used my words instead of my actions I may very well be there with you now. Don't hold things in, it doesn't work. You'll have to let it go one of these days and it's never pretty. Writing letters has helped me through my trials here and I suggest you the same._

_I hope you do not hold in your resentment of me for the rest of your life. Live everyday like it's your last._

_I'll remember you always,_

_Your Father_

_I love you._

By the time Arthur read the last sentence the hand that held the letter began to shake and his eyes stung with fresh tears. He read it three times over, taking in every word the man had wrote. He looked at the sending date on the envelope to see that the man had sent it only yesterday. Saturday. His father was schedule to be killed this Saturday. With was the last chance the blond had to reply to his father. To make up for all the other times he had ignored the man's request for a reply. If that was his dying wish then so be it.

The blond Brit rolled off the bed, taking out a notebook and ripping out a sheet he laid it on the desk as he went into the house. Surreptitiously he tipped toed through the house out of habit until he found an envelope and a stamp. Racing back to his refuge he wrote the address he had read for so many years, not needing a reminder but checked his memory just incase.

He was now standing over the desk, debating what to say to his father. His last words. Biting his lips he wrote out in less than perfect handwriting in black ink:

_I love you too. -Arthur_

And before he could think twice he folded the paper and slipped it into the envelope, running downstairs and out to the mailbox, slipping it in and pulling up the red flag to signal outgoing mail.

He stood there, staring at the mailbox for sometime. Hoping that his letter would get to his dad in time.

* * *

Late that night Arthur laid in his bed, the letter reeling in his mind, playing over and over again. One of the things his father had told him stuck with him. Writing letters. He wondered if he should try it. But to whom? What about?

And then the seed of his father's death planted itself into his brain. It's not like Arthur wanted to carry on for much longer. He was still waiting for a time where he could sneak out and grace the beautiful cliff with his rotting corpse. He was still scared of going but he still planned to.

Now to whom? All he had was Feliciano. He wouldn't bother his brothers with his death. They haven't talked to him since he was twelve. They wouldn't miss him.

But Feliciano? He might.

He nodded to himself of this plan. To bid his Italian friend farewell.

So he stayed up the rest of the night, pen and paper in hand but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what he should write. There was so much to say and so very few words to say it. The four words he had written out in pen haunted him from then until dawn. It read:

_To Feliciano, my friend._

By morning he was still holding his pen and paper as he walked through the door of the empty house. He didn't think this odd, with his mom's new boy toy it was more than likely that she spent the night plastered at his place. Good for her, even better for Arthur. The blond Brit made his way to school, still deep in thought about what he should write. He took to mind what his father had said about errors. Yet he didn't want it to be a slop hole of a letter. These were going to be his last words to his only friend and he wanted to put in as much thought into it as he was sure his father had.

Halfway he grunted in defeat, slipping it into his black bag promising himself to work on it later and trudged onto campus.

"Arthur! Hey Arthur!" he froze in his tracks to see the blond quarterback of the school bounding his way. Green eyes widened. _Shit_ he thought before running at high speed into the school the find Feliciano.

The blond known as Alfred stood there in the dust the Brit had kicked up during his escape. Smile completely vanished.

* * *

It was lunchtime and Feliciano and Arthur were sitting in their little hideout eating. Well Feliciano was eating, the other one...

"Ve~ Arthur! What are you writing?" the Italian inquired curiously, leaning over to look at the piece of paper the Brit was occupying most of his time and attention with.

Arthur flinched and backed away from his friend whose face became long with sadness, "S-sorry man, this is important. Just a letter, you don't need to worry about its content." he said feigning a smiling and the brunette only frowned at this.

"You know, we're friends Arthur. And I wish that you would be a little more honest with me." brown eyes looked uncharacteristically serious. Feliciano had never called out Arthur like that.

"I'm sorry," he only mumbled, "I didn't know you felt that way. I promise I'll open up more Feli but this is something I have to work on alone." he sighed turning back to his paper that finally had letters decorating it. He now lost his train of thought and sighing in indignation, he threw it back into the depths of his backpack.

The Italian teen was still slightly frowning, tossing his food around with his utensil until he was suddenly lit with a spark, "Ve~ I almost forgot! Arthur!" he called out for his friend's attention.

"What?"

"Ve~ Yesterday, at the library, I met this guy named Ludwig! He was really big and scary looking but he was also very nice!" he spoke excitedly and began with his next train of thought, "He's on the football team and wanted me to come to the homecoming game tonight also!"

Arthur froze, "He's what?"

"Ve~ On the football team. Why? What's wrong Arthur?" he said feeling his happiness begin to dwindle away.

"Feli, if he's on the football team that could very well mean that he plans on pulling a prank on you. You shouldn't go, I don't want you to get hurt." green eyes grew serious as the blond folded his arms across his chest.

"But Arthur, I don't think he planned on being mean. He seemed really nice..." the Italian's voice was quiet.

Ragged blond locks shook as the British teen disagreed, "You shouldn't go."

"Ve~ You're not my mother Arthur! I think we should at least TRY to make new friends!" the brunette snapped causing his friend's eyes to widen in shock. Feliciano never raised his voice, never.

With the shock waves of his friend's anger still coursing through him, he breathed out a blast of displeasure, "Well if you're going then I might as well go too." his jaw clenched at the thought.

"Ve~ Thank you!" the Italian replied happily and hugged his punk friend. The blond only stared over his shoulder with a look of horror plastered onto his face.

* * *

He was angry. No. He was more than angry. He was pissed off beyond belief. He couldn't believe that he actually said yes to going to the damned football game.

he hated crowds, and just recently, he discovered that he hated _this_ crowd. All around him from where he stood, his fellow peers were screaming _cheer's_ and _boo's_ every which way. Trash and confetti falling from the stands. He didn't understand the appeal. It was just a bunch of overgrown teens throwing each other across the field. _What the bloody hell is wrong with these people?_

Green eyes looked over the see one happy Italian standing next to him, completely enthralled with the game even if he didn't know a single thing about it. They were standing, particularly because neither friend dared to brave the bleachers and the roaring crowd. Thankfully for Arthur, he had spotted a close acquaintance that they could stand next to: Kiku.

So there they stood, in front of the gated exit for the football players to the locker rooms, basically the best sideline view of the torn up field. Kiku was there because he was the photographer for the sports section of the school's newspaper. He stood somewhat shyly, snapping pictures at various angles from his designated spot at the end of the field. The Japanese teen had gladly let the two friends stand by him at the most peaceful area to be.

It was close to half time now and the boys' school was undoubtedly wiping the field with the visiting team. One opponent even dislocating a collarbone during an over aggressive tackle.

"If it weren't for that new fullback, our team would probably be having a run for their money," the raven haired kid guiltily commented as he went down on one knee to take a picture, his gray hoodie now at his waist so he had more fluid movements, a black band t-shirt covering his torso.

Arthur looked down to give a clueless nod to the teen and Feliciano spoke up, "Ve~ Which one is the fullback?" he questioned innocently.

"Number sixty-one." Kiku answered clicking his shutter again.

"Ve~ That's Ludwig!." he chirped with excitement.

Deadpan, brown eyes looked up from the field, "You know him?"

"Ve~ I met him yesterday! He was the one who invited me to come!" the brunette was overflowing with his joyous energy.

"Hmm very interesting..." Kiku said to himself, neither of the other teens had heard him.

Arthur though was now standing there extremely worried. _That fullback. He's, he's huge, the size of a monster on steroids. That kid could not be in high school._

All three heads turned up and the crowds grew quiet when the whistle for half time was blown and the football players started to either re-hydrate on the sidelines or go into the locker rooms to get some air away from the loud noise and crowd.

Arthur noticed that as another very tall and muscular teen walked by Kiku, a soft looking brunette had winked at the raven giving a shy smile and the Japanese teen blushed in response. _That was weird._

"Oh, hallo Feliciano. You actually made it!" a blond teen with bright blue eyes came smiling towards Arthur's friend causing the fuzz of hair at his nape to stand on end.

"Ve~ Hello Ludwig! You're doing great out there! I think..." he trailed off as he realized that he really didn't know what this teen's job was on the team. He began to admire the sweat slicked blond hair as the German teen ran his long fingers though the golden strands. His face heated up.

"I take it that you don't watch American football," he spoke smiling with the rush of the game. Feliciano nodded solemnly, "No matter, I'm glad you came. Sorry but I need to go into the locker rooms. I'll see you around." he waved as he followed some of his teammates into the room and the Italian waved back with a large smile on his face.

During that time Arthur had watched the scene with a burning feeling in his chest. He didn't like watching his best friend be so easy around others. Wasn't _he_ supposed to be the only one who understood the brunette? He was so caught up in his petty envy that he didn't realize when his own blond began creeping up on him.

The start quarterback was running off the field waving at the crowd but stopped when he saw a fuming Brit standing at the gates with Ludwig and some small brunette. He was surprised to see the punk actually in a social environment. Alfred finally figured that he had to use the art of silence to get anywhere near the teen, that was, until he got within perfect ear shot, "Hey, Arthur my man!" he yelled waving as he ran towards the Brit. When he had spoken the marching band had started up and the Brit could not hear Alfred's hello.

He nearly shit bricks when he turned around to see blue orbs staring into his eyes. "'Holy hell!" he yelled, "At least fucking let people know when you're approaching you daft bastard!" he screamed jumping two steps back.

"YOU'RE at a football game?! I never knew you liked sports! Why don't we get along better if that's the case?!" the dirty blond started, ignoring the look on the flustered Brit's face.

"I don't you bloody wanker! My friend dragged me!" Arthur began to defend himself.

"Really? So you don't li-"

"Damn it Alfred, get your ass in here so we can go over next quarter's game plan!" the quarterback turned to see a fuming coach standing at the doors to the locker room.

"Oh sorry, I'll be right there!" he yelled before smiling warmly at the shorter blond, waving before heading in for the halftime break.

_What the hell is wrong with him?_

The blond looked out angrily at the field for the rest of the game. Really the only thing he liked about the whole thing was watching the marching band put on their show. They always did such a wonderful job, the blond knew this because his guitar class would often pop in to check out their rehearsals on the days where they just chilled.

His school's football team obviously won that night: 34-9. It was awful. The visiting team didn't stand a chance, not that the Brit cared all that much. By the end he and Feliciano were about to head home when the Italian suddenly stopped and looked at his punk friend.

"Ve~ Umm sorry Arthur, is it all right if I go try to find Ludwig to thank him again for inviting us?" he asked looking hopefully to his friend.

_You mean invited you_. "Uh yeah, sure dude. Just be careful." he said shrugging and waving the brunette goodbye for the night.

"Thank you Arthur! I'll text you tonight!" he waved smiling and hopped back into the crowd to find the scary German.

Feliciano had hummed, he figured that perhaps Ludwig would still be in the locker room dressing out and was sure that the new football star would be joining his teammates for celebration that night so he needed to hurry if he wanted to properly say thank you. True, the Italian had only recently just met the blond but he felt a sense of familiarity with the teen. He felt safe, comforted. Out of all the scary teens who look like they were on steroids, Ludwig was the least scary.

The brunette was about to lean up against the wall when he heard cackles coming his way. "Yo Vargas! I didn't know you liked football. Or do you watch it simply because you like to watch guys get all sweaty? Arthur's gay must have rubbed off on you." brown eyes whipped to the direction of the voice.

_Uh oh._

Standing before him was The Group, minus the increasingly absent Antonio and the well known Frenchman for some reason. The blond teen that was mouthing off to him now was Simon Densen, a devilish grin on his face.

They drew nearer.

"You know," Yong Soo began, "Your buddy got a good beating the last time we came face to face. What was that? A week ago? Far too long, don'tcha think? It couldn't have been fair for Eyebrows to get all the love last time so we thought that we would give you some attention too."

Feliciano soon found himself trapped and surrounded, his back against the brick building, only Yong Soo, Simon, and the dreaded Ivan blocked his freedom, Roderich idly stood by with the Cheshire cat grin on his face, arms folded across his chest and hips weighted on one side and the Italian couldn't help but think that he looked like a girl in that pose. So he let out a small laugh.

"The hell do you think is so funny Vargas?" the blond inquired.

"U-um, nothing Simon." he muttered covering his mouth.

"Oh really?" Yong Soo tested.

They came closer but the brunette saw a small opening and without thinking tried to make a mad dash to the safest part right now. Outside that ring.

As he began to duck underneath two arms, he felt a hard blow delivered to his abdomen, pushing through and shoving him against the wall. A large hand pressed against his chest to hold him above the ground.

"Hello Vargas. I would very much like to continue my lesson with you that you tried to skip out on last week, da?" silver hair glistened in the sun, violet eyes closed and a soft smile was coldly placed upon the Russian's sculpture like features. His hair was dripping water droplets, he had just got out of the shower after the game, as he was the school's top linebacker.

His hand balled into a fist, power being pulled into the muscular arms.

"Ve~ Don't hurt me! I'm sorry!" Feliciano held up his arms in defense, "Please anything but the face, don't hit me in the face!" he begged but the Russian teen's biceps kept recoiling back and besides the loud noises of the insults being thrown at him left and right, everything else was silent.

He felt the air of the punch hit him first.

"Vat are you doing?!" the air stopped.

A brown eye peeked open from behind a lid, taking in the look on Ivan's face. His face was turned to something else. He dared to glance at whoever it was. What he saw shocked him. It was that tall German whom he came to see. Blue eyes scared the Italian, they were fierce, an animalistic look colored them. Ludwig.

"Oh hello Ludwig. Great game today, da? You did a great job." a thick Russian accent spoke, the soft smile still placed on his fine lips. "Hello to you too Antonio." he said directing a third of his attention to the Spaniard. One third for Ludwig, one third for Feliciano.

"H-hey." Antonio replied uncertain. He didn't like this, he wanted to keep their violent activities away from Ludwig, and worse yet, they were giving both of them the look like they had to join in. Or else.

"Vat are you doing to Feliciano?" the German teen was still staring angrily at the position in which they were holding the underdog. His accent which he had hid so well so far was starting to seep through the longer he had to watch a helpless peer get tormented.

"Who? Vargas?" Simon began, "Oh we're just playing. No harm no foul." he moved towards the German, his arms outstretched in feign innocence.

"Zhat doesn't look like playing to me. Let him go." he said sternly.

"Beilschmidt." His last name was spoken coldly and he looked to the Russian who still held the squeaking Italian with a vice grip. "This is none of your business, da? I suggest you leave." Violet eyes tried to look intimidating as he pushed down on the brunette's rib cage, bones popping under the force of the palm and the brick altogether. He gasped.

Ludwig began to walk into the half circle, he was going to attempt at freeing the helpless teen, "Wait Ludwig." Antonio reached out to stop him but his hand caught nothing but air as the blond continued down his path.

A large hand grabbed the forearm of Ivan Braginski, "Let him go." blue eyes spoke sternly to deaf violet orbs.

The Russian's face grew completely emotionless, his fist that was still poised swung and leaned into Feliciano's face and in a split second that stiff air became alive. Everything ran in slow motion for everyone but the Italian. He could feel as his nose was hit for the second time in a little over a week, his body being released, falling to the hard ground, crimson streams flowing from his nose and mouth. Blood. So much blood. His eyes brimmed with tears from the pain.

When the little teen's face made contact with a pale fist, the German had sprung into action, pulling the Russian away and dealing him a good punch square in the jaw. Ivan retaliated, fists began swinging and everyone in The Group added to the mix, sounds of flesh beating against flesh filling the air. Ludwig couldn't see, he didn't need to see. He saw and heard nothing but static. What he was doing was right, it was just. He knew that Feliciano would never start a fight. He didn't seem the type. So why were they picking on him?

The number of times the blond was getting hit dimmed down until he felt numb. He had swung his leg to hit Yong Soo's head. He threw Simon a few times. He was first trying to protect some one he hardly knew and now he had to protect himself.

"Ludwig! Ludwig! Stop, you got them. Stop!" he felt strong arms pulling him back and it took him a moment to stop refusing the pull, his breath came in short heavy pants as he stared at his finest work.

The Korean and Danish teen were picking themselves up, backing away from the beast. Ivan, on the other hand, sat on the ground. A bump was forming on his cheek and he glared daggers at the German. He stood up and brushed himself off, turning another evil glare but pointed it at the Italian and Roderich.

"This isn't over yet, Vargas. Beilschmidt." He turned to the blond, "You're on my list now. You too Antonio." he said this as he walked away. The other spiteful teens followed suit.

Ludwig ran his fingers through his messy hair before he looked down at the brunette who's nose was still gushing like a fountain. He went to stand above the sniveling teen, taking off his shirt and revealing his rippling abs that began to show signs of bruising. He squatted to his level, handing him his shirt to hold to his nose.

"You okay?" he murmured quietly as Feliciano tried to lift his head back, "No, tilt your head down, you don't want to choke on your blood," he instructed as he leaned the Italian's face down gently.

"Ve~ Dank you Ludwig, but you shouldn't have done dat." Feliciano said this with the most sincerity though he sounded stuffed up.

"Why?" he asked, the mask of his accent being placed back on.

"You got hurt doo," he spoke as his hand went up to brush up against a gash that lied right above a furrowed blond eyebrow, the teen flinched at the stinging pain.

"Doesn't matter. Where I come from, bullying is not tolerated, my vater always told me to stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves." he said as he began to help Feliciano from his pathetic position.

"Ludwig I-" Antonio began but was caught off with the raising of the blond's hand.

"You're associated with those bastards, and I will like to have a word with you later. Right now you and I are going to take Feliciano to your house to make sure he's all cleaned up and okay." he said as he led them to the school parking lot.

"Ve~ Danks again Ludwig for saving me." he smiled up to the teen.

With faint red cheeks and a smile he answered, "Of course Feliciano. I will help you from now on."

* * *

_He gasped at the soft touch of fingertips racing across his skin. Goosebumps rising to the cool breath that blew across his ear. The sensations were all too much. He could melt into this embrace._

_Damn it._

_When will he forget me?_

* * *

a/n: So here are some fun facts: Pennsylvania Dutch pancakes are real, the recipe I work with is actually a family recipe, I mentioned Tim's great grandmother as a tribute for my own who loved this recipe with all her heart. The Pennsylvania Dutch settlers were actually German though because they are so similar there isn't a huge difference. (Thank you great grandma for being the only one who really cared about me, I love you and miss you dearly).

How'd you all like the addition of Heracles and that little moment at the end? Depending on your reviews that will further with possible lemons. :3

To _NBER1HOBO_ and fans that would like this little bit of info: I promise to add Spamano in the future chapters. That is all.

I hope you all liked this really long chapter, please review! You guys always make my day :)

Tomorrow is America's birthday! To fellow Americans, have fun celebrating and don't go blowing up houses! Have a happy Fourth of July everyone!


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